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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26080618">I'll Give You Everything</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/and_they_were_wombmates/pseuds/and_they_were_wombmates'>and_they_were_wombmates</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek &amp; Paul/Levenson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alana Is Just A Nerd-Nerd, Alana just wants to be accepted, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aromantic Zoe Murphy, Bi Evan Hansen, But he's Connor's mess, Complicated Relationships, Connor has Daddy-Issues, Connor is a book nerd, Connor smokes cigarettes because I know nothing about weed, Discovering yourself, Evan Is A Movie Nerd, Evan has Daddy-Issues, Evan is a Terrible Cook, Evan is a mess, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gay Connor Murphy, Growing Friendships, I'm Sorry, I'm not the boss of you, Jared Is A Video Game Nerd, Jared can be a jerk sometimes, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of past self harm, No Under-Age, Or don't, Panic Attacks, Slow Burn, Some Swearing, Straight Alana Beck, Straight Jared Kleinman, Therapy &amp; Medication, Treebros, Very Cringey Writing, Zoe Is A Music Nerd, lgbtq+, mentions of past suicide attempts, please enjoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 02:55:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>71,313</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26080618</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/and_they_were_wombmates/pseuds/and_they_were_wombmates</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Evan is called into the principal's office, he just knows that it's about the letter. The letter that Connor took from him and completely misunderstood. So when he steps into the office and sees two adults who can be none other than Mr. and Mrs. Murphy, he knows he's done for.</p><p>But Evan's problems have really only just begun when the principal informs him that Connor attempted to kill himself and is now comatose in a hospital. Evan has to juggle a fake friendship, a growing relationship with the girl of his dreams and her parents, worry about a boy in a hospital bed potentially waking up and exposing all of his lies, and deal internally with what he's been struggling with since last summer but refuses to properly acknowledge.</p><p>And things only get worse when Connor wakes up. Or... maybe they're getting better?</p><p>Follow along as two dumb-asses, and a supporting cast I suppose, figure out how to navigate life and their feelings during their senior year of high school.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alana Beck/Jared Kleinman, Evan Hansen/Connor Murphy, Evan Hansen/Zoe Murphy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>77</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>177</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Dear Evan Hansen...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello! This is my first time publishing a fic! I've been writing stories since I was a kid, but I've never publicized any of my work until now, so it might be totally awful. Please let me know what you think in the comments, if you feel so inclined!</p><p>These first couple of chapters are basically the musical turned into a story. It follows the same storyline and has almost all the same dialogue, with some slight variations. The story will significantly stray from the original storyline in Chapter Three.</p><p>Chapter Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Some Violence (Connor pushes Evan to the ground, like in the original storyline)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Dear Evan Hansen, </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Today is going to be an amazing day, and here’s why. Because today, all you have to do is just be yourself. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But also confident. That’s important. And interesting. Easy to talk to. Approachable. But mostly be yourself. That’s the big, that’s number one. Be yourself. Be true to yourself.</em>
</p><p>Aaaaand print. He’s going to have to get better at this. He folds the paper up into a tiny square, puts it in his backpack, and walks out of the computer lab.</p><p>At his locker, Evan pulls out his Calculus book and puts it is his backpack. He turns around, only to be scared shitless by Jared standing behind him.</p><p>“So, is it weird to be the first person in history to break their arm from jerking off too much, or do you consider that an honor?”</p><p>Evan looks around the hallway, panicked that someone might have heard Jared’s comment, “What? I didn’t, I wasn’t… doing that.”</p><p>Jared continues his monologue, loudly, “Paint me the picture: you’re in your bedroom, you’ve got Zoe Murphy’s Instagram up on your weird, off-brand cell phone…”</p><p>At the mention of Zoe’s name, Evan nearly jumps out of his skin. “That’s not what happened!” He says hurriedly. “Obviously. I was, um, well, I was climbing a tree and I fell.”</p><p>Jared looks at him, even more amused now. “You fell out of a tree? What are you, like, an acorn?”</p><p>Evan begins explaining that he fell out of a tree in Ellison State Park, where he worked this summer as an apprentice park ranger, but Jared isn’t listening. He turns his attention elsewhere, namely the school drug addict who just so luckily happens to be passing them by.</p><p>“Hey, Connor. I’m loving the new hair length. Very school shooter chic.”</p><p>Connor stops and throws Jared a glare.</p><p>“I was kidding. It was a joke.” Jared rolls his eyes.</p><p>“Yeah, no, it was funny. I’m laughing. Can’t you tell? Am I not laughing hard enough for you?” Connor says all this monotone, face deadpanned.</p><p>Jared laughs, “You’re such a freak,” and he walks away, leaving Evan alone in a very awkward situation with the freshly insulted Connor. Evan lets out a soft, nervous laugh.</p><p>“What the fuck are you laughing at?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Stop fucking laughing at me.”</p><p>“I’m not.”</p><p>“You think I’m a freak?</p><p>“No, I don’t –”</p><p>“You’re the fucking freak!” Connor shoves Evan to the ground as he storms away.</p><p>Evan lays on the ground for a beat after Connor has rounded the corner. <em>Dear Evan Hansen</em>, he thinks, <em>it turns out, this won’t be an amazing day after all.</em></p><p>Someone is talking to him. “What?” Evan comes out of his reverie.</p><p>“I’m sorry about my brother. He’s a psychopath.”</p><p><em>Brother?</em> Shit shit, it’s Zoe Murphy. THE Zoe Murphy. Evan panics internally as Zoe takes his hand to help him up. He looks at their hands. He is holding hands with an angel.</p><p>And his palms are sweaty. Shit.</p><p>“Evan, right?” Evan looks up. She’s still talking to him? Even though he has sweaty hands?</p><p>“Evan?”</p><p>“That’s your name…?”</p><p>“Oh. Yes. Evan. It’s Evan. Sorry.”</p><p>“Why are you sorry?”</p><p>“Well, just because you said, Evan, and then I said, I repeated it, which is, that’s so annoying when people do that.” <em>What the hell am I saying?</em></p><p>Zoe gives him a small smile. “I’m Zoe.”</p><p>“No, I know.”</p><p>“You know?”</p><p>“No, just, I’ve seen you play guitar in jazz band. I love jazz band. I love jazz. Not all jazz. But definitely jazz band jazz. That’s so weird, I’m sorry.” <em>Oh my God, Evan, shut up.</em></p><p>“You apologize a lot.”</p><p>“I’m sorry… or, I mean. You know what I mean.”</p><p>Zoe looks at him, amused. “Well, Evan, can I have my hand back?" Evan looks down and, much to his horror, he’s still grasping Zoe’s hand. He immediately lets go.</p><p>“Yeah, yes, sorry.”</p><p>Zoe pulls her hand back and tries to be inconspicuous as she wipes the sweat off. Evan cringes.</p><p>“Well, I’ll see you around.”</p><p>“Yeah, see you,” Evan is looking at the ground, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. He blurts out before he can talk himself out of it, “Do you want to sign my cast?” Evan looks up, but Zoe is already down the hallway, meeting with her friends at their lockers. He sighs.</p><p>
  <em>This isn’t going to be an amazing week or amazing year. Because… why would it be?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh, I know. Because there’s Zoe. And all my hope is pinned on Zoe. Who I don’t even know and who doesn’t know me? But maybe if I did. Maybe if I could just talk to her, then maybe… maybe nothing would be different at all.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I wish that everything was different. I wish that I was part of… something. I wish that anything I said… mattered, to anyone. I mean, face it: would anybody even notice if I disappeared tomorrow?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sincerely, your best and most dearest friend,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Me.</em>
</p><p>–</p><p>Aaaaand print. Well, at least this one is longer. Hopefully it will be enough to placate Dr. Sherman.</p><p>It’s the end of the first day of school and, just like this morning, Evan is back in the computer lab.</p><p>After shutting down the computer, he picks up his backpack and starts walking to the printer. Only to be stopped by none other than Connor Murphy. Evan laughs nervously again before shutting himself up, not wanting a repeat of this morning.</p><p>“Hey. I’m sorry about earlier,” Connor mumbles.</p><p>Evan just nods, not trusting himself to say anything.</p><p>They stand in awkward silence for a moment, before Connor speaks again. “So, what happened to your arm?”</p><p>“Oh, I um, fell out of a tree actually.”</p><p>Connor laughs slightly. “You fell out of a tree? That is just the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard, oh my God.”</p><p>Evan smiles and nods. “I know.”</p><p>“No one’s signed your cast.” Connor points to Evan’s left arm.</p><p>“No, I know.”</p><p>“I’ll sign it.”</p><p><em>What? </em>“Oh. Um… you don’t have to.”</p><p>“Do you have a Sharpie,” Connor asks, either not grasping that Evan is uncomfortable or just not giving a shit.</p><p>Evan pulls a Sharpie out from his pocket, reluctantly. His mom made sure he had one on hand today for anyone who wanted to sign his cast.</p><p>Connor writes his name in big, sloppy letters across the entire face of Evan’s cast.</p><p>“Oh. Great. Thanks.” Evan takes the marker back, looking at his cast in dismay.</p><p>“Now we can both pretend we have friends.” Connor gives Evan a little smile.</p><p>“Good point…” There’s an awkward pause, and they two boys just look at each other. “Well, bye.” Evan starts to walk past Connor.</p><p>“Wait. Is this yours? I found it on the printer. ‘Dear Evan Hansen.’ That’s your name, right?”</p><p>Evan’s chest constricts so fast that he nearly passes out. “Oh, that’s just a stupid, it’s a paper I had to write for a, um, for an assignment…” Evan rambles as Connor scans the paper.</p><p>“Because there’s Zoe… is this… is this about my sister?” Connor is suddenly furious. “You wrote this because you knew that I would find it.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“You saw that I was the only other person in the computer lab, so you wrote this and you printed it out, so that I would find it.”</p><p>Evan is at a loss for words. “Why, why would I do that?”</p><p>“So I would read some creepy shit you wrote about my sister and freak out, right? And then you can tell everyone that I’m crazy, right?”</p><p>Evan, breathing erratically, feels his entire body drain of color. He didn’t even know that was possible. “No. Wait. I don’t even, what?”</p><p>“Fuck you.” He pushes past Evan with the paper still in hand.</p><p>Connor storms out of the computer lab, and as Evan clutches his chest in an attempt to calm himself down, all he can think is, <em>Shit.</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Best And Most Dearest Friend</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I've decided that I really like writing for Jared, mostly because of his comedic relief but also because sometimes it's fun to be mean to your main characters. </p><p>Chapter Warnings: Some Swearing, Mentions of Suicide Attempt</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s been three days since his encounter with Connor. Evan hasn’t seen Connor at school, which he isn’t sure why that matters anyway because Evan would never pluck up the courage to confront Connor about the letter. And now he is sitting in the principal’s office, waiting to be called in. What had he done to be called to the principal’s office? Is this about the letter? Did Connor give it to the principal, and now the principal thinks Evan is a pervert?</p><p>Evan is playing with the hem of his shirt again, rubbing the thin and fraying fabric between his thumb and forefinger.  He glances up at the clock and notices the principal’s secretary is watching him. She gives him a melancholy look. What is that supposed to mean? Evan wipes his nose and goes back to his shirt hem.</p><p>It’s a couple minutes later when the principal finally sticks his head out from his office, “Evan Hansen?”</p><p>Evan wipes his nose again before standing up. Hunched over and looking at his feet, he walks into the office and notices there are three chairs facing the principal’s desk, two of which are occupied by people.</p><p>“Evan, this is Mr. and Mrs. Murphy. Connor’s parents.”</p><p>Evan doesn’t say anything, but he stares at them in disbelief. <em>Shit. This is definitely about the letter</em>, he thinks, before sitting down uncomfortably on the edge of the third chair.</p><p>The principal sits down across from the three of them, leans forward on the desk, and folds his hands.</p><p>“Evan, I called you in here today because… we have some bad news.”</p><p><em>Shit shit shit shit. </em>Evan keeps fiddling with his shirt hem, not looking anywhere in particular.</p><p>“There’s no easy way to say this… Connor Murphy tried to take his own life.”</p><p><em>What?</em> Evan’s head jerks up. “What?” Evan pauses. “What do you mean ‘tried’,” he blurts without thinking.</p><p>Mr. Murphy clears his throat. “Connor, well, he overdosed, and he passed out rather suddenly. He hit his head on a sharp corner of his desk. There was so much blood–”</p><p>“Larry!”</p><p>“Um. We found him, unconscious. We took him to the hospital and they were able to save his life, luckily. But… the doctors put him into a medically induced coma. He did some serious damage to his brain between the drugs and head trauma. They’re not sure when he’ll wake up…” Mr. Murphy speaks quietly now, “… and if he does, the doctors say he might have permanent memory loss.”</p><p>Mrs. Murphy sniffles, reaches into her purse, and pulls out a piece of paper. “This is… Connor… he wanted you to have this.”</p><p>Evan takes the paper, his confusion mounting. This is his letter. “He, um, he gave this to you?”</p><p>“We didn’t know that you two were friends,” Mr. Murphy begins.</p><p>“Friends?”</p><p>“We didn’t think that Connor had <em>any</em> friends. And then we see this note and it’s, this seems to suggest pretty clearly that you and Connor were, or at least for Connor, he thought of you as…” Mr. Murphy drifts off. “I mean, it’s right there. ‘Dear Evan Hansen.’ It’s addressed to you. He wrote it to you.”</p><p>Evan’s eyes widen. “You think this is, you think that Connor wrote this to me?”</p><p>“When we found him, this is all he had with him. He had it folded up in his pocket.” Mr. Murphy pauses. “You can see that he’s… he wanted to explain it, why he was…”</p><p>Panic sets into Evan’s bones again, and he desperately tries to explain this terrible, awful misunderstanding, “But, that’s, this isn’t… I’m sorry. Connor, um, Connor didn’t write this?”</p><p>Mrs. Murphy finds her voice again. “What does that mean? Larry, what does he mean?”</p><p>Mr. Murphy takes Mrs. Murphy’s hands, “He’s obviously in shock.”</p><p>“No, I just, he didn’t…” Evan stutters.</p><p>The principal is in utter confusion, watching the conversation go back and forth like a tennis match.</p><p>“It’s right there, in the letter,” Mrs. Murphy begins to cry. “If this isn’t, if Connor didn’t write this, then…”</p><p>“Cynthia, please calm down,” Mr. Murphy rubs her shoulder.</p><p>“I’m sorry, but I should probably just, can I please go now?”</p><p>“This is all we have. This is the only thing we have left!” Mrs. Murphy is hysterical and openly sobbing now.</p><p>“I really should go,” Evan holds the letter out to the Murphy parents, desperately trying to get out of the situation. “You should just, you should take it. Please.”</p><p>Mrs. Murphy suddenly gasps. “Larry, look. His cast.”</p><p>Evan looks at his cast in horror. There, in plain sight and letters you could see from a mile away, <em>CONNOR</em>.</p><p>“His best and most dearest friend.”</p><p>
  <em>Shit.</em>
</p><p>–</p><p>
  <em>JK_Derp: Holy. Shit.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Evaaan: I didn’t say anything. I just, I couldn’t say anything.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>JK_Derp: Holy. Fucking. Shit.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Evaaan: They invited me to dinner. They want to know more stuff about Connor and me, about our “friendship”.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>JK_Derp: What are you going to tell them?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Evaaan: I mean, the truth?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>JK_Derp: The truth. Really. You’re going to go to the Murphy’s house and explain that their comatose son’s suicide note is some weird sex letter that you wrote to yourself? You know, you could go to jail for this. If you get caught?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Evaaan: But I didn’t do anything?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>JK_Derp: Look, do you want to listen to me or do you want to have another meltdown like last year in English when you were supposed to give that speech about Daisy Buchanan, but instead you just stood there staring at your notecards and saying, “um, um, um” over and over again like you were having a brain aneurysm?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Evaaan: What do you expect me to do? Just keep lying? And what if he wakes up? He’ll tell everyone the truth.</em>
</p><p><em>JK_Derp: I didn’t say “lie”. All you have to do is just nod and confirm. Whatever they say about Connor, you just nod your head and you say, yeah, that’s true. Don’t contradict and don’t make shit up. It’s foolproof. Literally, </em>nothing <em>I tell my parents is true and they have no idea. Besides, people in comas after that much head trauma don’t usually wake up.</em></p><p>
  <em>Evaaan: They were so sad. His parents? His mom was just… I’ve never seen anyone so sad before.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>JK_Derp: Well, then good thing you’re about to tell her the truth about your sex letter. I’m sure that will cheer her right up.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Evaaan has left the chatroom.</em>
</p><p>–</p><p>“Hey, you,” Evan’s mom enters his room, and he quickly shuts his laptop. “I have some very exciting news. Look what I found online today: college scholarship essay contests. Have you heard of these?”</p><p>“I think so…”</p><p>His mom continues with enthusiasm, “NPR did a whole thing about it this morning. There are a million different ones you can do. A million different topics. I spent my whole lunch break looking these up!” She hands a few prompts to Evan. “The John F. Kennedy Profile in Courage Scholarship – three thousand dollars, college of your choice. Henry David Thoreau Society, five thousand dollars…”</p><p>“Wow,” Evan says, trying to match his mom’s excitement.</p><p>“College is going to be so great for you, honey. How many times in life do you get the chance to just… start all over again?”</p><p>“No, I know.”</p><p>“You’ve got so much, so many wonderful things ahead of you. High school isn’t always… the only people that like high school are the cheerleaders and football players, and those people all end up miserable anyway.” Evan lets out a soft laugh at this. “Yeah, you’re going to find yourself in college. I just thought that these were… it seemed like a neat idea.”</p><p>“It is! For sure,” Evan reassures her.</p><p>“You’ve always been a wonderful writer. A great teller of stories! And we’re going to need all the help we can get for college. Unless your stepmother has a trust fund for you that I don’t know about, with all those fabulous tips she makes cocktail waitressing…”</p><p>Evan gives his mom a small smile.</p><p>Suddenly his mom gets more serious. “Hey, I, um, I got an email from your school today. About a boy who tried to kill himself? Connor Murphy? I didn’t, I had no idea.” She sits on Evan’s bed next to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.</p><p>Evan shies away from her touch. “Oh. Yeah. Well… I don’t really know him.” Evan looks away, playing with his shirt hem. If he’d known the conversation was going this way, he would have kept his mom talking about the essays.</p><p>“You know that… if you ever, if you want to talk about anything… I realize that lately it must feel like I’m always working or in class…”</p><p>“It’s fine,” Evan says slowly.</p><p>“Well, I’m here. And if I’m not <em>here</em> here, I’m a phone call away. Or text. Email. Whatever,” his mom stands to walks to his desk.</p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>There’s a long pause before his mom speaks again. “All right. It says, ‘Connor’,” she says, pointing to his cast. “You said you don’t know him.”</p><p>“Oh. Yeah. No. No, I didn’t, don’t. This is… we were, are, acquaintances. But not very close. He just, um, signed it. Really unexpectedly.” Evan stumbles over his words.</p><p>His mom looks concerned but decides not to say anything else about it and instead changes the topic. “Hey, you know what? How about I bag my shift next Tuesday? When’s the last time we did a Taco Tuesday?”</p><p>“Oh, um. You don’t have to.”</p><p>“No, you’ve been back at school for a week already, and I’ve barely seen you! Maybe we could even start brainstorming those essay questions together!” His mom tries to make it sound more fun than it will be, and it works.</p><p>Evan smiles genuinely. “That would be great.”</p><p>“Oh. That’s exciting. I’m excited now!” His mom begins to leave the room, but she pauses at his bedside table, picking up a bottle of pills. “Are you okay on refills?”</p><p>“Yes,” Evan replies, not looking at her.</p><p>“Well. Don’t stay up too late. I love you.”</p><p>“I love you, too.”</p><p>–</p><p>The next night, his mom is working late again and leaves a $10 bill on the kitchen counter for Evan to get dinner with. But Evan leaves the $10 because he’s going to the Murphy’s tonight. Oh God. He’s going to the Murphy’s tonight. Zoe will be there. And they’ll want to talk about Connor. Oh God.</p><p>At exactly 6:00 pm, Evan is standing at their doorway with his finger hovering next to the doorbell. He stands there for about two minutes before finally ringing it. He is almost instantly greeted by Mrs. Murphy, who whisks him promptly inside before Evan can change his mind and make a run for it.</p><p>Upon entry, Evan can smell chicken casserole. And Evan likes chicken casserole. But this probably doesn’t matter; he figures everything will taste like sand to him because he’s so nervous.</p><p>“Thank you so much for coming, Evan. We’re so happy to have you here!” Mrs. Murphy ushers him into the dining room, where Mr. Murphy is already seated, reading a small novel. Four plates are set out nicely, and there’s a bowl of apples for the center piece. “Take a seat, dinner will be ready in just a minute.”</p><p>Evan realizes that she intends to leave him alone with Mr. Murphy, who’s slouched profile and grumpy demeanor he finds much too intimidating. “Would you… do you need, um, any help? In the kitchen?” Evan’s a shit cook, but anything would be better than being left with Mr. Murphy.</p><p>“Oh, no, dear! I’ve got everything under control, you’re our guest! Sit down, make yourself comfortable. Zoe will be down in a minute,” Mrs. Murphy walks away, leaving Evan and Mr. Murphy looking at each other awkwardly.</p><p>Evan lets out a shaky laugh and sits. Mr. Murphy turns his attention back to his book.</p><p>“What, um, book… are you reading?” Evan asks timidly, trying to make small talk.</p><p>“Mao’s Little Red Book,” Mr. Murphy answers curtly.</p><p><em>Oh.</em> They sit in silence for what feels like an eternity before Zoe comes stomping down the stairs. She enters the dining room and looks at Evan with shock. “You,” she says.</p><p>“Hi,” Evan manages to squeak. Zoe is wearing a crop top and short overalls that barely cover her upper thighs. Evan is pretty sure showing that much leg should be illegal.</p><p>“You’ve met?” Mr. Murphy asks without looking up from his book.</p><p>“Briefly. What are you doing here?” Zoe sits and begins to pull her hair up, exposing way too much of her neck.</p><p>“Um, Connor. I, we were, um, friends?” Evan isn’t sure what to say. “Your mom invited me,” he finishes lamely.</p><p>And speak of the woman, Mrs. Murphy reenters the dining room with a pan of warm chicken casserole which she places in the center of the table, next to the bowl of apples. “Evan, what would you like to drink? We have water, seltzer, juice, milk, soda…”</p><p>“Water is good. Thanks.”</p><p>Mrs. Murphy leaves and reappears with a pitcher of ice water. Once everyone is settled into their seats with Mrs. Murphy across from Evan, Mrs. Murphy takes her husband’s and daughter’s hands. “Evan? Would you mind if we say grace?”</p><p>“No, um, yeah. That’s good. Fine.” His eyes dart down. Timidly, he takes Mr. Murphy’s and Zoe’s hands into his own. God, he hopes his hands aren’t sweaty.</p><p>“We give You thanks for this food, drink and all that You provide. We give You thanks for the safety of our family. We give You thanks for watching over Connor and our guest, Evan. Amen.”</p><p>The rest of the table chimes in with an “Amen” before dishing out the casserole. They spend a few minutes eating before Mrs. Murphy begins the interrogation.</p><p>“So you guys, you… you hung out a lot?”</p><p>Evan, remembering Jared’s advice, nods and gives a nonchalant “Pretty much.”</p><p>“Where?” Zoe looks at him skeptically. “The only time I ever saw you and my brother together was when he shoved you at school last week.”</p><p>“He shoved you?” Mrs. Murphy looks stricken.</p><p>“No, um, that was actually, it’s funny, I, um… tripped.”</p><p>“I was there. I saw the whole thing. He pushed you, hard.”</p><p>Evan’s appetite is diminishing fast. “<em>Oh</em>. I remember now. That was a misunderstanding. Because, the thing was, he didn’t want us to talk at school, and I tried to talk to him at school. It wasn’t that big a thing. It was my fault.”</p><p>“Why didn’t he want you to talk to him at school?” Mrs. Murphy ponders this with confusion.</p><p>“He didn’t really want people to know we were friends. We mostly just emailed and hung out at my house. I mean, sometimes we’d come to his house if nobody else was here. But we mostly just emailed so we wouldn’t have to, he didn’t want to always hang out. In person, you know? I guess he was embarrassed. A little.”</p><p>“Why would he be embarrassed?”</p><p>“Um, I guess because he thought I was sort of, you know…”</p><p>“A nerd?” Zoe chimes in.</p><p>Mr. Murphy, speaking for the first time during dinner, begins to immediately reprimand her.</p><p>“No, um, loser, I was going to say, actually. But nerd works, too,” Evan gives Mrs. Murphy a small, reassuring smile. Like being called a loser and a nerd doesn’t hurt him.</p><p>“Well, that wasn’t very nice of him,” Mrs. Murphy mutters.</p><p>“Connor wasn’t very nice, so that makes sense,” Zoe says viciously to her plate.</p><p>“Connor was… is. He is a complicated person,” Mrs. Murphy defends her son.</p><p>“No, Connor was a bad person. There’s a difference,” Zoe spits. “Don’t pretend like you don’t agree with me.”</p><p>Things begin to heat up when Mrs. Murphy raises her voice, “You refuse to remember any of the good things. You refuse to see anything positive!”</p><p>Evan begins to shrink more and more into his chair, hoping to stay unnoticed. Hoping to stay out of the conversation. Hoping that maybe a black hole might open up right beneath his chair and swallow him whole.</p><p>“Because there were no good things! What were the good things?” Zoe starts yelling back. “What were the good things, Mom? Tell me.”</p><p>Evan can’t handle it anymore. He remembers when the fights used to be about him, and before he knows what he’s doing, he blurts, rather loudly, “I remember a lot of good things about Connor.”</p><p>Everyone turns their attention to him. That’s not what he wanted.</p><p>“Like what?” Zoe doesn’t believe him.</p><p>“I, um, never mind. I shouldn’t have, I’m sorry, never mind.”</p><p>“No, Evan, you were saying something. We want to hear what you have to say. Please.” Mrs. Murphy looks at him with so much hope in her eyes.</p><p>Evan looks at his plate and starts fidgeting with his shirt. “Well, I was just… Connor and I… we had a really great time together, this one day, recently.” He pauses. “That’s something good that I remember about Connor. That’s what I keep thinking about. That day.” He looks around, hoping for inspiration, a picture of Connor somewhere. Anything. His eyes land on the bowl of apples in front of him. “At the apples, um… the apples… place.” <em>What?</em> Nobody speaks. “Anyway. It’s, I knew it was stupid. I don’t know why I even brought it up.” Evan says hurriedly.</p><p>“He took you to the orchard?” Evan can hear the happiness in Mrs. Murphy’s voice.</p><p>“Yes? Yes, he did.” <em>Stop making stupid shit up, Evan. Just play along.</em> He can hear Jared’s voice shouting at him in his head.</p><p>“When?”</p><p>“Once! It was just that once. But. He said the apples there were the best.”</p><p>“I thought that place closed. Years ago,” Mr. Murphy chimes in unhelpfully.</p><p>“Exactly. Which is why were so bummed when we got there, like, ah, no, because it was completely, it’s totally closed down now.” <em>Abort, abort. What’s the fastest route to get out of this conversation?</em></p><p>But Mrs. Murphy is so enthused that she barely registers Mr. Murphy’s and Evan’s last comments. “We used to go to the orchard all the time. We’d do picnics out there. Remember that, Zoe? And you and Connor had that little toy plane you would fly!”</p><p>Zoe, softening a bit, “Yeah. I do.”</p><p>Mrs. Murphy turns back to Evan. “I can’t believe he took you there! I bet that was fun. I bet you two, I bet you had fun.”</p><p>“We did. The whole day was just… the afternoon was perfect.”</p><p>“What was the name of that ice cream place out there we loved?” Mrs. Murphy addresses her husband.</p><p>“À La Mode,” Mr. Murphy smiles faintly, reminiscing.</p><p>“Yeah, we grabbed a scoop at À La Mode before going to the orchard. Then we sat and just talked for hours.”</p><p>“What did you talk about?” Mrs. Murphy asks eagerly.</p><p>Evan gulps. “Well, we talked about things we’d do when we got out of school, or our favorite bands, or girls we liked...” Evan shoots a quick glance at Zoe. “And we just spent the day like that. Talking. And taking in the view. And uh, we also climbed one of the trees. And he said that he loved the view of the world from up so high, and. And he was right. We climbed to the very top of the tree and felt the sun on our faces and…” Evan looks around at the Murphys, all entranced by his story.</p><p>“And?” Mrs. Murphy presses.</p><p>Evan closes his eyes. “And then the branch I was standing on gave way. And suddenly I’m… I was on the ground, and my arm went numb. And I felt so scared. But then Connor was there, and he told me everything would be okay. And it was okay. Despite the fact that I broke my arm, it really was a perfect day.”</p><p>Everyone stays still for a moment. Then Mrs. Murphy gets up and walks around the table to give Evan a hug. “Thank you, Evan. That was beautiful.”</p><p>Evan stiffens when Mrs. Murphy hugs him, but she doesn’t seem to notice. When she finally lets go, she asks Evan a horrible, awful question: “Evan, tomorrow is Saturday. We have plans to visit Connor in the afternoon, and I was wondering if you’d like to come with us?”</p><p><em>Oh no.</em> “Oh, um, I don’t think… Connor wouldn’t… I shouldn’t. That’s your, um, family time.”</p><p>“Well, you’re a part of Connor’s family, you were so close. So now you’re part of our family. We’d love for you to join us. And I’m sure Connor would love it too.”</p><p>“Connor? I thought he was, um… there was the coma?” Evan taps his head and panics for a millisecond thinking that Connor might be awake and tell everyone what a liar Evan is.</p><p>Mrs. Murphy is quiet, seeming to suddenly remember that her son is in a hospital. In a coma. “Well, yes, he is. But we can still visit. Talk to him.”</p><p>“Oh, um…”</p><p>“You meet us here at twelve o’clock and we’ll drive over together, alright?”</p><p>Evan can’t seem to find a ramp off this highway. “Okay.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Visiting The Hospital</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>We're deviating from the original storyline! Yay!</p><p>Not a whole lot happens in this chapter, but it does begin to address some of Evan's backstory. Evan's relationship with his dad is a big contributing factor in his anxiety, which will come into play a bit later in the story. It's not hugely important to this storyline, though.</p><p>Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Let me know if you spot any spelling or grammatical errors, and feel free to let me know what you think! I'm very open to constructive criticism!</p><p>Chapter Warnings: Swearing, Some Verbal Abuse, Verbal Fighting, ummm hospitals and needles?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>JK_Derp: His parents think you were lovers. You realize that, right?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Evaaan: What? Why would they think that?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>JK_Derp: Um. You were best friends but he wouldn’t let you talk to him at school? And when you did, he kicked your ass? That’s like the exact formula for secret gay high school lovers.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Evaaan: Oh my God.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>JK_Derp: This is why I told you – what did I tell you? You just nod and confirm.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Evaaan: I tried to. I just, you don’t understand. I got nervous and I started talking, and then once I started, I just…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>JK_Derp: You couldn’t stop.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Evaaan: They didn’t want me to stop.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>JK_Derp: So what else did you completely fuck up?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Evaaan: Nothing. Seriously.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Evaaan: I mean, they invited me to visit Connor in the hospital tomorrow.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>JK_Derp: Connor. In the hospital. You said no, right?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Evaaan: Well, I was kind of coerced into it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>JK_Derp: I mean, honestly? Could you be any worse at this?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Evaaan: What am I gonna do?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>JK_Derp: Relax. You go once. Tell them you can’t stand to see him in this state. They don’t invite you again, Connor never wakes up, you’re off the hook. Boom. Foolproof.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Evaaan: But what about Zoe?</em>
</p><p><em>JK_Derp: What </em>about<em> Zoe? Look, dude, she is mad out of your league. Get out while you can. If your only connection is a fake friendship with her brain-dead brother, you’re doomed.</em></p><p>–</p><p>After a night of no sleep, Evan walks solemnly up to the Murphy’s front door. Once again, he hesitates before ringing the doorbell. This time, Mr. Murphy answers.</p><p>“Come in,” he says with about as much enthusiasm as Evan is feeling.</p><p>Evan enters, and Mr. Murphy disappears down the hallway. Evan remains standing in the entryway, unsure of what to do. He settles on looking at his feet and playing with his shirt hem, his usual stance.</p><p>“Evan!” Mrs. Murphy comes in with a big smile on her face. “Thank you so much for coming, we’re just about ready to go… Zoe!” Mrs. Murphy yells up the stairway. “We’re leaving!”</p><p>Zoe comes down the stairs and stops at the bottom, folding her arms. Today she’s wearing jeans that really accentuate her long legs and a skintight shirt, and Evan’s hands immediately start sweating as he tries not to stare at her perfect curves. “I still don’t see why I have to come.” She glares at her mom.</p><p>“Zoe, we talked about this… he’s your brother.”</p><p>“Just because he’s my brother doesn’t mean we’re the fucking Brady Bunch.”</p><p>Mrs. Murphy purses her lips, but just as she’s going to speak, Mr. Murphy reenters the foyer. “Ah, shall we go?” He says, less of a question and more of a command.</p><p>Mrs. Murphy and Zoe silently exit through the front door, with Evan and Mr. Murphy bringing up the rear. Mr. Murphy locks up the house and leads the family to their Mercedes sedan. Evan and Zoe sit together in the back seat (Evan’s hands are sweating substantially now), Mrs. Murphy takes the passenger seat, and Mr. Murphy gets behind the steering wheel.</p><p>It’s a long, silent ride to the hospital. And yet, it seems all too quickly Evan is standing in the ICU, looking at the comatose Connor Murphy, tubes running in and out of him at all angles. Evan winces when he realizes how many needles must be stuck into Connor. Mrs. Murphy, mistaking Evan’s queasiness for sympathy, puts a hand on his shoulder.</p><p>“He’s breathing on his own. The doctor said that's a good sign.” Mrs. Murphy says to Evan quietly, reassuring him.</p><p>“A… a good sign? Like, um, he’ll wake up? Soon?” Evan panics slightly.</p><p>“We don’t know. But the doctor said he has a much better chance of coming out of this because he doesn’t need a ventilator.”</p><p>“But it’s still only a one in ten chance,” Zoe mumbles.</p><p>“Zoe,” Mr. Murphy scolds.</p><p>“Evan, why don’t you and Zoe go down to the food court. Find some lunch? Mr. Murphy and I would like to sit with Connor for a while.”</p><p>“Oh, um, yeah, that’s… yeah, okay.”</p><p>Zoe grabs his shirt sleeve and starts pulling him, albeit gently, towards the door to Connor’s ICU room. “Come on, <em>loser</em>,” she says, teasing.</p><p>Evan stumbles over his shoelaces when he realizes she might actually be flirting with him. Alas, it doesn’t amount to much. They spend lunch in silence.</p><p>After a while, they take the elevator back up to the third floor and meet Mr. and Mrs. Murphy outside of Connor’s room.</p><p>“Well, would you like to spend some time with Connor?” Mrs. Murphy is addressing both Evan and Zoe.</p><p>“No,” Zoe answers immediately. Mrs. Murphy doesn’t press.</p><p>“What about you, Evan?”</p><p>“Well, I, um, don’t think… I don’t want…” Evan has always been bad at saying no.</p><p>“Go on in, dear. I’m sure he’d like it if you sat with him a while. We’ll be waiting out here.”</p><p>“But, wait, um, am I… what do I, what am I supposed to do?”</p><p>Mrs. Murphy looks at Evan sympathetically. “Just sit with him, dear. Talk to him, if you’d like.”</p><p><em>Right.</em> Evan opens the door timidly. Mrs. Murphy sends him a supportive look.</p><p>Inside, Evan sees all the tubes again and feels a shiver down his back. He decides to pull Connor’s blanket gently up to his chin. At least now Evan can look at the guy without wanting to vomit.</p><p>He sits down in the armchair next to Connor’s bed and watches him breathe for a while. It was sort of calming, watching his chest rise and fall, slow and steady. Evan closes his eyes and listens to the beeping of the machines hooked up to Connor. Should he say something?</p><p>“So, um… the weather, it’s nice? I mean, it’s still September, so, it’s like, hot, but also cooling down at night. But it’s not really autumn yet.” <em>I am talking about the weather with a guy in a coma.</em> “This is ridiculous,” Evan says more to himself.</p><p>But then, Evan realizes something. Something fantastic. He’s talking with a guy in a <em>coma</em>. Connor can’t hear him, can’t respond, can’t judge him in any way. Evan could talk about anything, <em>anything</em>, and Connor wouldn’t give a shit. Evan could talk about things that he can’t talk about with his mom or Jared, or even Dr. Sherman. Oh, this is wonderful. But just in case… Evan pokes Connor. No response. Yep. This is shaping up to be a great semester.</p><p>–</p><p>It’s Tuesday night, and for the third time in the past week, Evan finds himself in front of the Murphy’s front door. This time, he doesn’t hesitate.</p><p>He’s welcomed in by Mrs. Murphy. She ushers him into the living room where Mr. Murphy sits, reading another book.</p><p>“Hello,” Evan says tentatively.</p><p>Mr. Murphy looks up from his novel and actually acknowledges Evan with a tilt of his head. Mrs. Murphy exits into the kitchen. “Artichoke and chard pasta tonight, Evan. Hope you’re hungry!” Mrs. Murphy’s shouts echo from the other room.</p><p>Evan smiles faintly and stands awkwardly in the middle of the room where Mrs. Murphy left him. He fiddles with his shirt hem. “So… what, what are you reading? Today.”</p><p>Mr. Murphy keeps his focus on his novel, “<em>Anna Karenina</em>.”</p><p>“I thought that, um, was a, an opera?”</p><p>“Originated as a novel…” Mr. Murphy mumbles.</p><p>“Oh, well. Is it any good?”</p><p>Mr. Murphy stops reading. “You know, Evan, why don’t you go tell Zoe that dinner is almost ready. She’s studying in her room.”</p><p>“H-her room?” Evan blushes a bit. He never imagined he might someday see Zoe Murphy’s bedroom.</p><p>“Yeah. It’s upstairs, down the hall on the right. It’s the door after Connor’s room.”</p><p><em>Connor’s room</em>, Evan thinks. He doesn’t know which room Connor’s is, but he can’t tell Mr. Murphy that. He’d already said last week that they sometimes hung out in his room when no one else was home. “R-right. Okay.” Evan turns his attention to the staircase behind him.</p><p>Taking one step at a time, slowly. Evan feels like he might faint from excitement. And terror. <em>I get to see Zoe Murphy’s bedroom</em>, he repeats in his head as he climbs. He reaches the top. Down a long hallway, Evan can see three white doors to his right before the hall ends with a left turn.</p><p>The first door is open. Evan peeks in to see a spacious bathroom. The long countertop has a dozen or more hair and makeup products. Evan gives them a closer look. Hairspray, blushes, black eyeliner, and hairbrushes are a few of the items Evan can identify. He’s not extremely versed in the different types of beauty products, but he’s pretty sure he can tell what’s Zoe’s and what was Connor’s.</p><p>Evan picks up Zoe’s hairbrush. He knows this is weird, it’s creepy, and it’s bordering on stalker-ish, but he has to do it. He smells it. It smells like Zoe’s hair, and his heart flutters a little. He puts the hairbrush back exactly how it was and decides to leave the bathroom before he does anything else stupid.</p><p>The next two doors are both closed. The one nearest to Evan has a small sign tacked to the outside that reads, “KEEP OUT”. Evan thinks it’s safe to assume that this is Connor’s room, which means that the last door will be Zoe’s.</p><p>Evan begins walking down the hallway, intending to knock on Zoe’s door and hopefully be invited inside.</p><p>Except he doesn’t.</p><p>Stopping in front of Connor’s door, Evan examines it. There are some big cracks going down the middle of the door, but everything else in the house (that Evan has seen so far) is in top shape.</p><p>Evan can imagine Connor slamming his door, maybe Mr. Murphy banging on the outside. And yelling. Evan can hear the yelling.</p><p>
  <em>“Where have you been?” It’s nearly 11:00 pm, and Evan should have been asleep for hours, but instead he’s laying awake, listening to Mom’s concerned and angry voice challenging Dad.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Work,” Dad says stiffly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“This late?” Mom accuses.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s early February in Rochester, New York, and it snowed today. But despite the freezing weather, Evan crawls out of his big-boy bed and tiptoes across the icy floor. He presses his ear to the door.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Let’s talk about this tomorrow. I’m exhausted.” Dad speaks with a low voice.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Right, right. You’re exhausted. Because you’ve been out fucking your secretary.” Mom’s voice is steadily raising in volume.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Evan doesn’t know what “fucking” is, but whatever it means, Mom doesn’t like that Dad is doing it with someone from work.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Now Dad’s voice is getting louder too.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Then explain why you smell like cheap perfume and cigarettes?” Now, Evan knows what cigarettes are, and he knows they’re not nice. “Why do I find long, black hair in your laundry? Why do you take calls from ‘Sharon at work’ when you bother to show up for family dinner time?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s nothing.” Short and curt, like always.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“’It’s nothing’,” Mom repeats. “Look, if you won’t stop seeing her for me, then do it for Evan.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dad lets out a short, harsh laugh. “Evan, that damned retarded kid.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Evan pulls in a gasp. Kids at school call him that. Because he stutters. Evan doesn’t really know what “retarded” means either, but he knows he doesn’t like it when Dad says it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t say that!” Mom snaps.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No, no, you’re right. He’s a precious little ray of sunshine who shies away from everything like he’s going to be burned. Heidi, that kid is a mess.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, maybe he wouldn’t be if you were around more!” Mom shouts, and Evan hears Dad groan. “He needs a strong, male figure in his life. He needs his dad to teach him… I don’t know, how to play baseball, how to tie a tie, how to do algebra – ”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There’s a loud bang that sounds like Dad pounded his fist on the wall. “Dammit, Heidi, I don’t want this! I never wanted this!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s quiet for a moment, and all Evan can hear is his own heart pounding in his chest.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Mom speaks cautiously. “What do you mean?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dad lowers his voice now, and Evan presses his ear against his door until it hurts. “All of it. I didn’t want you to have that kid. I didn’t want to marry you, I didn’t want to take a stupid desk job. We were too young, Heidi. A baby at eighteen… we were still babies ourselves. I never… I never got to do anything that I wanted to do.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There’s a silence, and Evan wonders if they’re still there. “Then leave,” Mom says suddenly, and Evan’s eyes widen. Leave? He can’t leave. They’re family. Mom needs him. They love each other, and they love him. Right?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What?” Dad sounds shocked.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“If we’re such a burden to you, then just leave. I’m giving you an out, Mark. Either accept that this is your life now, that you have a wife and a son, a steady job, a home… Accept your responsibilities, or leave.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nothing happens for several minutes. Evan holds his breath.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But Evan hears the front door open and slam. And now he can hear Mom crying in the kitchen. Alone.</em>
</p><p>Evan opens his eyes. He’s still standing in front of Connor’s door. Without thinking twice, he opens it and walks inside.</p><p>It’s a bit messy. The bed is made, but there’s a pile of clothes on the floor and a paper-strewn desk to his left. His nightstand doesn’t have much on it – there’s a lamp and an alarm clock. His bedspread is a plain navy blue. His backpack sits slouched in the desk chair. Evan notices a bottle of black nail polish on the desk. Shuffling through the papers, Evan realizes that Connor’s chicken scratch is actually an English assignment in progress. <em>So Connor actually does homework?</em></p><p>Sticking out from his backpack is Connor’s infamous black jacket. Evan remembers Jared teasing Connor about how the only clothes he owned were a pair of jeans and “that damned jacket”. Evan guesses he must’ve worn it a lot; Evan typically watches his feet in the hallways at school, so he doesn’t notice other people’s fashion choices very much. Unless it’s Zoe.</p><p>Evan reaches down and tugs the jacket free. It’s soft from years of use, and there’s a small hole in the sleeve. Probably due to age.</p><p>“What are you doing in here?” Evan nearly jumps out of his skin and instinctively drops the jacket.</p><p>“I wasn’t, I didn’t, I’m-not-doing-anything!” Evan blurts.</p><p>Zoe smirks and drops her gaze to the jacket on the floor. “You should take it.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“The jacket. You should take it.”</p><p>“O-oh, no. I couldn’t. That’s… Connor, he’ll want it. When he’s better.”</p><p>Zoe rolls her eyes. “He’s not gonna wake up.”</p><p>Evan looks down at his hands. “Don’t say that…” he says quietly. He’s not sure why, because really it’s in his best interest if Connor doesn’t wake up, but Evan can’t stand the idea that he might not. Because Connor is important. He should matter to someone, anyone. No one deserves to disappear, right?</p><p>“Why not? Everyone thinks it.” She crosses her arms and leans against the door frame. “Mom only talks about him in the past tense. Dad doesn’t talk about him at all, he’s already forgotten he ever had a son. A crap son.”</p><p>Evan winces, “I’m sure that’s not true.” Zoe’s words hit him almost as hard as Dad’s did, even though he knows they weren’t directed at him.</p><p>“Whatever,” Zoe watches him fiddle with his shirt hem.</p><p>“What about you?”</p><p>“Me?” Zoe asks, confused.</p><p>“Yeah. What are you… How-how do you feel? About Connor?” Evan glances at her quickly before turning his attention back to his hands.</p><p>Zoe’s quiet for a moment. “He was a monster.” Evan looks at her. “I hated him. But… he was still my brother.” She pauses now. “He wasn’t always that way. We were… happy, when we were kids. I think.” She rubs her cheek.</p><p>Her lower lip trembles a bit. “I know,” Evan’s not sure how to comfort her, but his small reassurance seems to help.</p><p>Her expression lightens a bit. She opens her mouth, about to say something, when Mrs. Murphy calls up the stairs, “Kids! Dinner’s ready!”</p><p>Zoe gives Evan a soft smile. “You should take it,” she says one more time. So he does.</p><p>Evan slips the jacket on, and Zoe looks at him with a bit of sadness. She quirks her head, “Let’s go.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm lucky enough to have grown up in a loving household. Despite the numerous arguments and fights I've had with my own parents (as any healthy parent-child relationship does) and the childhood friends who didn't live in households as stable as mine, I have a really hard time depicting unhappy families. After all, even if you're empathetic, you can't really understand what someone feels unless you've gone through the same situation. So I hope I was able to properly get the idea across that Evan's dad was a little bit verbally abusive. Evan's backstory also kind of references the song "So Big/So Small" from the musical, since it takes place in February. The backstory scene is meant to take place a few days before Evan's dad officially moves out, moving truck and all.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. A One In Ten Chance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I know I've already said this, but I freaking love writing for Jared. Don't worry, he won't be a jerk forever.</p><p>And poor Evan! What a ridiculous situation he's gotten himself into! Honestly, his life is so tragic.</p><p>Enjoy!!</p><p>Chapter Warnings: Swearing, mentions of past suicide, panic attack, self-deprication</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>At school the next day, Jared corners Evan. “So?”</p><p>They’re standing at Evan’s locker as he pulls out his biology textbook. Evan is still thinking about the timed essay in English, wondering if he should’ve chosen a different topic or if his arguments were strong enough, so he’s not entirely sure what Jared’s referring to. “’So’ what?”</p><p>“How was dinner last night? Did you blurt out more shit about your gay lover Connor? Are they still buying your lies? Or did the night end with them kicking you out and you masturbating alone in your room to Zoe Murphy’s Instagram?”</p><p>Evan slams his locker closed. “Would you quit talking about me and Zoe’s Instagram?” Evan feels a bit of anger and humiliation bubbling up inside him.</p><p>“Dude, it was a joke.”</p><p>Evan knows it’s a joke, he knows Jared doesn’t realize how his words affect people. But that doesn’t make it any better.</p><p>“Do you… do you ever think about him? Um, Connor, I mean.” Evan doesn’t look at Jared when asking this.</p><p>“No? Why would I?”</p><p>Evan looks up and studies Jared’s face. Is he truly ignorant to how his words affect people? Does he know that maybe, just maybe, if he hadn’t bullied Connor that morning, Connor wouldn’t be in a coma right now? Or maybe it wouldn’t have mattered. Maybe it was Evan who pushed him over the edge. Was it Evan’s fault? Why was he depressed? Why did he let go?</p><p>He looks at his cast. No. Evan can’t think like that. It was an accident. He didn’t let go on purpose. He’d never do that. Who would do that?</p><p><em>You did</em>, Evan thinks. And suddenly his heart is beating a little too fast, his breath is coming out in sharp gasps, and Evan half runs, half stumbles down the hall, pushing people out of the way, to a private bathroom.</p><p>“Evan? Ev!” Evan can hear Jared call his name down the hall, and he prays that Jared doesn’t follow him. Jared knows that Evan stutters, that he has anxiety. But Jared doesn’t know he has panic attacks. And coupled with his asthma, Evan’s episodes are a real mess. Jared can’t see him like that. No one can. No one would understand.</p><p>Safe behind the locked bathroom door, Evan crouches, folding in on himself and hugging his knees to his chest. He’s still breathing rapidly, and he’s starting to feel light-headed. And he feels like he’s about to vomit.</p><p>He slams his eyes closed and focuses on slowing his breathing. <em>In, two, three, four… Out, two, three four… think of something happy…</em> Evan tries to picture a calm, safe place. Except, Evan’s never felt calm or safe anywhere. So he pictures the orchard and his fake day with Connor. It’s peaceful. The wind plays music with the trees, and Evan watches a ladybug crawl through yellow grass. The sun is beginning to set, and the sky is Evan’s favorite shade of orange. He feels warm and safe. Why was he panicking in the first place? He looks to his left and there’s Connor, sprawled out on the grass, his eyes closed, and a faint smile tugging at his lips. He looks so peaceful; Evan wants to reach out and touch his hair. Connor.</p><p>Connor. Connor, Connor, Connor… Evan is abruptly brought back to reality when he realizes he’d been holding his breath. Gasping for air, tears start streaming down his face. Connor. <em>It’s your fault, Evan. You were the last person he talked to. Maybe if he’d talked to someone else, someone who didn’t try to commit suicide this summer…</em></p><p>“Shut up!” Evan yells at his brain. “Shut up, shut up, shut up! I didn’t do it, it’s not my fault!”</p><p>
  <em>If you have to lie to yourself to live with yourself, is living even worth it?</em>
</p><p>Evan’s thoughts startle him so badly that he momentarily stops panicking. Staying crouched on the floor for a few more minutes, Evan regains control of his emotions. He takes a breath from his inhaler and slowly stands on shaky legs. In the mirror, Evan can see red eyes, a tear stained face, and raw scratch marks on his cheeks. He hadn’t even realized he’d been clawing at them with his fingers.</p><p>He cleans himself up. After washing his face and wiping snot from his shirt, he stares at himself in the mirror.</p><p>
  <em>I should’ve fallen from a higher tree.</em>
</p><p>–</p><p>Weeks pass, Connor hasn’t made any progress, and Evan spends nearly every afternoon in Connor’s room at the hospital, talking to him about all his problems and worries and how Zoe still doesn’t notice him even though he has dinner at the Murphy’s house almost every night. He talks about how that chemistry test was harder than he thought it would be, so he might have to do extra credit work to keep his grade up. Oh, and college applications are due soon, something his mom reminds him of every time she sees him. She’s driving him crazy with those scholarship essays, it’s all she ever talks about now. She doesn’t seem to care about anything else. Evan hasn’t hung out with his mom like they used to for months, and he kind of misses her. And should he even apply to college? He can’t afford it. And what does Evan want to do with his life, anyway? Jared wants to go into game design, he’s a whiz with technology. But Evan isn’t really passionate about anything. He’s good at breathing, and that’s about it. Oh, wait. He has asthma. Never mind.</p><p>“Oh, I got my cast off yesterday. So no more big ‘CONNOR’ on my arm, which was really a pain by the way–”</p><p>“Why are you here?”</p><p>Evan looks up at the doorway. “Oh, Zoe, um hi. Just… visiting.”</p><p>“Don’t your parents get upset that you’re here all the time?” Zoe folds her arms across her chest.</p><p>“Well, it’s not like I’m, I’m not here <em>all</em> the time…”</p><p>“Just every afternoon.”</p><p>“Well. It’s just my mom, and she works most days. And she’s in class at night.”</p><p>“Class for what?”</p><p>“Legal stuff.”</p><p>“Where’s your dad?”</p><p>Evan looks away, not answering at first. “My dad is um… he lives in Colorado. He left when I was six. So. He doesn’t really mind either,” Evan gives Zoe a quick smile, hoping she caught his joke. No such luck. “Why are you here? You never visit.”</p><p>Zoe looks shocked for a moment, uncrossing her arms. She doesn’t answer, instead changing the subject. “My mom is making gluten-free lasagna for dinner.”</p><p>“Oh, that sounds really…” Evan searches for the right word.</p><p>“Inedible?”</p><p>Evan lets out a small laugh. “You’re lucky your mom cooks. My mom and I just order pizza… when she’s home.”</p><p>Zoe watches him for a moment. “Well, you’re lucky you’re allowed to eat pizza.”</p><p>“You’re not allowed to eat pizza?” Evan is aghast. Well, as aghast as an emotionally stunted person can be.</p><p>Zoe smiles. “We can now, I guess. My mom was Buddhist last year so we weren’t allowed to eat animal products. That’s sort of what she does, she gets into different things. For a while it was Pilates, then it was <em>The Secret</em>, then Buddhism. Now it’s free-range, <em>Omnivore’s Dilemma</em>… whatever.”</p><p>“Oh, um, it’s cool that she’s interested in… so much different stuff,” Evan says awkwardly.</p><p>“She’s not. That’s just what happens when you’re rich and you don’t have a job. You get crazy.”</p><p>Evan smiles faintly. “Well, my mom always says it’s better to be rich than poor.”</p><p>“Your mom’s probably never been rich then,” Zoe teases slightly.</p><p>“Yeah, no, and you’ve probably never been poor.” Silence. Evan realizes what he just said. “Oh my God. I can’t believe I just said that, I’m so sorry, that was completely rude,” Evan splutters.</p><p>But Zoe’s laughing, “Wow, I didn’t realize you were actually capable of saying something that wasn’t nice!”</p><p>“No, I’m not! I never say things that aren’t nice. I don’t even <em>think</em> things like that. I’m just, I’m really sorry.”</p><p>“You’re weird,” Zoe says, smiling at him.</p><p>“I know.” At least she isn’t mad.</p><p>Zoe looks at Connor for a minute. “Why did he say that? In his note?” She looks at Evan, who is clearly confused. “’Because there’s Zoe. And all my hope is pinned on Zoe. Who I don’t even know and who doesn’t know me?’ Why would he write that? What does that even mean?”</p><p>“Oh, um…” Evan hesitates. Zoe looks back to Connor. “Well, I guess – I’m not sure if this is definitely it, but he was always… he always thought that, maybe if you guys were closer… and so he used to always say that he wished that he was. Closer. With you. He wanted to be.” Evan realizes this is probably the longest conversation he’s held with Zoe, ever. He’d do anything to make it last.</p><p>“So you and Connor, you guys would talk about me?” Zoe looks a little hopeful.</p><p>“Sometimes. I mean, if he brought it up. I never brought it up. Obviously. Why would I bring it up?” Evan speeds through these words, and Zoe smiles at him. “He thought you were… awesome.”</p><p>“He thought I was ‘awesome’. My brother?” She rolls her eyes. “How?”</p><p>Evan is momentarily stunned, trying to think of something, anything, that he could say. And suddenly all of Evan’s feelings, these emotions, these desires that he’s felt toward Zoe since sophomore year, come crashing out in the form of Connor’s love for his sister. “Well. Like… whenever you have a solo. In jazz band. You close your eyes and you get this – you probably don’t even know you’re doing this. But you get this half smile. Like you just heard the funniest thing in the world, but it’s a secret and you can’t tell anybody. But then, the way you smile, it’s sort of like you’re letting us in on the secret, too.”</p><p>Zoe comes closer, sitting down next to Evan on the small couch in the room.</p><p>“He said you scribble stars on your jeans when you get bored. And you fill out those quizzes they put in those teen magazines.” Zoe smiles at this. “He loved you. He just didn’t know how to tell you. He didn’t know how to talk to you.”</p><p>Zoe is listening to Evan talk with such a hunger for his words. “Did he say anything else?”</p><p>“About you?” Evan was kind of hoping to change the subject.</p><p>She looks away, “Never mind. I don’t even really care, anyway…” She seems a little hurt.</p><p>Well that’s the last thing Evan wants. “No no, he just, he said so many things about you. I’m trying to remember the best ones!” Evan laughs a bit. “He thought you looked really pretty – or um, it looked pretty cool when you had those indigo streaks in your hair.”</p><p>“He did?” Zoe is smiling again.</p><p>“Ah, um, yeah, and he loved the way you dance like no one was watching. And he always said that your smile was contagious, he loved it.”</p><p>Zoe is blushing, and they sit together in silence, save for the beeping machines that are hooked up to Connor. After a bit, Zoe takes Evan’s hand. It’s sweaty.</p><p>“Everything you just said. Everything you’ve done. Whenever we talk about Connor, you make me realize… It’s like you’ve given me my brother back. The brother I used to know when we were little. When he was my best friend.” Zoe is looking deep into his eyes.</p><p>“No, I… this is…” Evan stutters, and before he realizes what’s happening, Zoe kisses him. For a moment, it’s everything. Everything he’s ever wanted, everything he’s dreamed of… so why doesn’t he feel anything?</p><p>Zoe pulls away, slowly. “Evan, I…”</p><p>Evan is stunned. “Um…” He cuts her off. “I just um… I need to go,” he gets up and practically sprints out of the room.</p><p>
  <em>Shit. What was that?</em>
</p><p>–</p><p><em>JK_Derp: You </em>what<em>?</em></p><p>
  <em>Evaaan: I didn’t mean to, it just happened.</em>
</p><p><em>JK_Derp: I can’t believe Zoe Murphy kissed you in her brother’s hospital room. Where he’s in a </em>coma<em>. And you RAN AWAY.</em></p><p>
  <em>Evaaan: Oh my God. What am I going to do?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>JK_Derp: Are you kidding? After yesterday? You can never talk to her again. Why the hell did you run away?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Evaaan: It wasn’t really what I expected. It didn’t feel right.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>JK_Derp: What, the only scenario you imagined kissing her was on the beach, possibly with nothing but thin swimsuit fabric between you as you hump each other to completion?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Evaaan: What? No, I wouldn’t… ever. Not that. I just thought there would be… I don’t know. A spark.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>JK_Derp: Oh, man, you’ve been watching way too many chick flicks. Listen, dude, MAN UP. You got the girl (somehow), just enjoy it while it lasts. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Evaaan: I guess you’re right.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>JK_Derp: Of course I’m right. I’ve got game, son. Now text her before she throws herself onto some other loser. Unless you want a three-some.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Evaaan has left the chat room.</em>
</p><p>Evan closes his laptop with a sigh. He supposes Jared is right. This is what he’s wanted for two years now, right? A chance with Zoe Murphy, the angel, who might possibly like him despite his stutter and his awkwardness and his sweaty hands.</p><p>Yeah, Jared’s probably right.</p><p>Evan picks up his phone, but before he can even begin to summon the courage to type in Zoe’s number, his phone is buzzing.</p><p>It’s a phone call. From Zoe.</p><p>“H-hello?”</p><p>“Evan! Evan, he’s awake! I don’t know how, it’s a miracle. After you left, I sat with him for a while and he moved. He moved! He was responsive! And now he’s awake!” Zoe speaks way too fast, and Evan, thinking he would be answering to an angry and dejected Zoe, is thoroughly confused.</p><p>“What? Who?”</p><p>“What do you mean, ‘who’? Connor! Connor woke up from his coma!”</p><p>Evan lets these words sink in.</p><p><em>Shit</em>.</p><p>–</p><p>Zoe isn’t at school the next day. Nor for the rest of the week. Evan supposes that she and her parents are spending some much-needed time with Connor.</p><p>Connor. Who will probably spill the beans that Evan and he were never friends, that Evan wrote that letter about Zoe because he’s a freak, that Evan is a liar who we should probably chase after with burning torches and pitchforks.</p><p>Zoe’s been texting him once in a while, wondering if he will come visit with Connor. She says nothing about the kiss, or about Evan’s ridiculously embarrassing response to said kiss, which he’s grateful for. He texts Zoe back with short messages, giving empty promises of visiting Connor. Because there’s no way he’s going to visit Connor. This whole situation is just a ticking time bomb waiting to go off, and Evan hopes that he’ll miraculously switch schools or die before he has to deal with the Murphy family and his lies again.</p><p>“So, what are you gonna do?” Evan and Jared are in the cafeteria for fourth period lunch. They always sit in the middle of the room; this is where the losers and the freshmen sit. The jocks and other popular kids sit on the edges of the room because they can more easily vape without the lunch monitors noticing.</p><p>“What am I gonna do about what?” Evan isn’t eating again. He’s just pushing the school’s provided Rice-a-Roni around his plate and occasionally nibbling on a chip.</p><p>“Uh, duh. The Connor Murphy situation? The only thing of importance in our lives right now?” Jared rolls his eyes. Evan is fucked, and Jared is eating it up. Evan supposes that focusing on other people’s problems helps Jared to keep his mind off his own.</p><p>“Honestly? I’m waiting for a bus to hit me so I don’t have to deal with it.”</p><p>Jared takes some of Evan’s grapes; he wasn’t going to eat them anyway, and Jared has a black hole for a stomach. “You know what I think you should do?” Jared mumbles through a mouth full of grapes. “You should talk to Connor.”</p><p>“Haha, very funny. That’s… the last thing I will ever do.”</p><p>“I’m serious, dude. Go talk to him before it’s too late. Put your toes in the water. Find out if he even remembers who you are. They said he could have permanent memory loss, right? Maybe he doesn’t remember you, and you could use that to your benefit. Convince him that you were friends, but he just doesn’t remember it now. Foolproof.” Jared finishes off Evan’s grapes and starts eating his chips.</p><p>Evan stares at him. “Yeah… yeah, you’re right. Maybe he doesn’t remember anything! And I can keep pretending… no, what? That’s ridiculous. Should I live a lie for the rest of my life?”</p><p>“Well, you’re planning on being hit by a bus, right? So you won’t have to keep up the lie for much longer.” Jared shakes the last chip crumbs from the bag into his mouth.</p><p>“Yeah, great.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. A Lying Liar Who Lies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter is pretty short - sorry!  Next chapter will be a little longer.</p>
<p>Chapter Warnings: Swearing, mentions of past suicide attempt<br/>(I think that's it, but let me know if you find anything else I should include in the warning list)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Despite the stupidity of Jared’s plan, Evan knows that avoiding the problem will only make it worse. And so, once again, Evan finds himself in front of a door that he’d rather not open.</p>
<p>He’d checked with Zoe to see what time the Murphy’s would be visiting today, so Evan knows he has an hour to talk to Connor alone. And he’s wasting precious time by hesitating at the door. Evan gathers his resolve and any bits of strength he might have and knocks.</p>
<p>A moment passes. No answer. Evan opens the door slowly and quietly, peeking his head inside. To Evan’s enormous relief, Connor appears to be sleeping. Evan shuts the door behind him and tiptoes to Connor’s bedside.</p>
<p>He looks much healthier than the last time Evan saw him. His skin has more color, his hair is clean, and he doesn’t have as many needles sticking out of him. Evan watches him for a few minutes and contemplates what he should say. Should he tell Connor the truth? Ask him to play along? Or should he continue this sad façade alone? He can feel his stomach contract with fear, so he goes to open the window. Breathing in the fresh air helps a little.</p>
<p>“Who the hell are you?” A slow, groggy voice behind him makes Evan feel like his insides are melting.</p>
<p>“W-who, me?” Evan turns and feels his face go red. “Of course me. Ha, I’m the, uh, only one here.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m, uh, Con – no, Evan. Hansen. I’m Evan. You’re Connor. Why would I say I’m Connor? That’s weird. I’m sorry.” Evan looks anywhere but Connor’s eyes.</p>
<p>Connor doesn’t say anything at first; he just watches as Evan grows more and more uncomfortable. “Is that my jacket?”</p>
<p>“Ah, um, yeah.” Evan almost forgot this was Connor’s jacket; he’s been wearing it every day since Zoe told him to take it.</p>
<p>“So, what are you, like, my boyfriend?”</p>
<p>“<em>What?”</em> Evan splutters and nearly trips over thin air. “B-boyfriend? N-no, ha, um. Do you, um, remember me? At all?” Evan can feel his cheeks heating up again. And his forehead. And nose. And neck. And his heart is pounding in his ears.</p>
<p>“Nope.”</p>
<p>“Oh,” Evan rubs his shirt hem between his thumb and forefinger. His shirts are all extremely frayed now. “We were friends,” Evan says lamely. He decides to keep pretending. He can’t face the truth yet. He’s not ready.</p>
<p>Connor snorts. “Friends? Dude, I might not remember you, but I know I never would’ve been friends with you. You’re a – ”</p>
<p>“Loser, I know,” Evan looks into Connor’s eyes now. He hadn’t noticed before that Connor’s eyes were a calm grey. Like the sky after a rainstorm. Or of falling snow.</p>
<p>“So… we were friends.”</p>
<p>Evan nods.</p>
<p>“Then why don’t I remember you?”</p>
<p>Evan looks away. “I… don’t know. Do you… what’s the last thing you remember?”</p>
<p>Connor scrunches up his face with thought. “Mmmm… I remember leaving my parent’s house to go to school. It was the first day, I think. Senior year. I remember fighting with Cynthia. And yelling at Zoe. I don’t really remember what the fight was about… but I know I was pissed.” Connor scrutinizes Evan. “But I don’t remember you. I know that was the day I tried to kill myself – ” Evan winces at this, “And apparently, we were good enough friends that you wore my jacket. But we weren’t friends before that day.”</p>
<p>For having just come out of a coma, Evan thinks Connor is much too deductive. “Umm…”</p>
<p>“Unless if I’m missing other chunks of my memory,” Connor contemplates now. “But why would I only forget you?”</p>
<p>Evan feels about ready to vomit. And that’s when the Murphys enter the room, much earlier than Evan had anticipated. <em>This just keeps getting better and better.</em></p>
<p>“Evan! You came!” Zoe runs to meet him and wraps him in a hug.</p>
<p>“Y-yeah,” Evan stutters, patting her awkwardly on the back, and Connor smirks.</p>
<p>Mr. Murphy remains in the doorway, betraying no emotion as per usual. Mrs. Murphy also gives Evan a hug, and then she begins fussing over Connor. Evan watches her fluff his pillows and straighten his blankets. She smooths his bedhead, all the while with Connor complaining and swatting her hands away.</p>
<p>Zoe pulls Evan toward the window and away from the bed. “I’ve missed you,” she says quietly.</p>
<p>Evan hums a response. He’s not quite sure how to talk to Zoe. He hasn’t seen her since the kiss.</p>
<p>“Listen, I know things are kind of crazy right now, but would you maybe want to go on a date? With me? On Friday?”</p>
<p>“Mm?” Evan still can’t open his mouth.</p>
<p>Zoe takes Evan’s hands in her own, and she doesn’t seem to mind this time that they’re sweaty. She speaks even softer now, “I really like you, Evan,” she looks down at their hands. “I’d like to have the chance to see where this goes.”</p>
<p>Evan finds his words, “’This’?”</p>
<p>“Us,” Zoe gives him a kind smile.</p>
<p>Evan gulps audibly.</p>
<p>“And I know that you have… that you’re a little shy sometimes. So I thought maybe we could do a group date? You’re friends with Jared and Alana, right? We can invite them if it’ll make you more comfortable. We can go to the arcade and eat cheap pizza!”</p>
<p>Evan lets out a small laugh. It actually sounded like fun. And Jared told him to go for it, right? “Sure.”</p>
<p>Zoe smiles brightly. “Great! It’s a date!” She casts a quick glance to her parents. Mr. Murphy seems to have stepped into the hall, and Mrs. Murphy is still fussing over Connor. The coast is clear, and Zoe gives Evan a quick, chaste kiss on the cheek.</p>
<p>Evan feels his whole body go red. Zoe joins Mr. Murphy in the hall. Evan looks at Connor who waggles his eyebrows. He saw the whole thing.</p>
<p>“Evan, would you like to stay with us for dinner? We’re ordering Chinese takeout, Connor’s favorite!”</p>
<p>“Oh, um..." Evan is momentarily stunned. The last thing he wants is to be here with Connor when he ultimately reveals that Evan's a lying liar who lies. But maybe if he stays he could prevent Connor blabbing? It was worth a shot. Also, he wants to spend more time with Zoe, no matter how anxious he is thinking about potentially dating her. "Yeah, sure,” he decides, "I'll stay."</p>
<p>“Perfect! Larry will go pick it up.” Mrs. Murphy stands and joins Mr. Murphy and Zoe in the hall, presumably to tell Mr. Murphy their orders.</p>
<p>Once she’s gone, Connor turns to Evan. “So, you’re into my sister, huh?” Connor smirks at him. Again. Evan thinks he’s far too skilled at smirking.</p>
<p>–</p>
<p>When dinner arrives, they all sit around Connor’s bed. Mrs. Murphy attempts to say grace, but Connor refuses to join.</p>
<p>They spread all the food out on a small table at the foot of the hospital bed. Mrs. Murphy makes a plate for Connor so he won’t have to get up.</p>
<p>Zoe sits next to Evan, which he thinks nothing of until she brushes her hand against his and he nearly jumps out of his seat.</p>
<p>Dinner is a short affair. Connor doesn’t eat much – he’s still being weaned back on to solid foods – and once he finishes, no one else really wants to continue eating Connor’s favorite food right in front of him.</p>
<p>Unfortunately for Evan, dinner is littered with questions about his and Connor’s friendship.</p>
<p>“How did you two meet?” Mrs. Murphy is the main offender of asking said questions.</p>
<p>“Oh, uh… at school? In the computer lab.” Evan read somewhere that lies are more believable (and easier to tell) if there’s some semblance of truth to it. “Yeah, he, I…” Evan’s mind flashes back to the papers on Connor’s desk. “I had an English report to write and, uh, Connor offered to help.”</p>
<p>Connor raises his eyebrows because he knows he’d never offer homework help to anyone, but Mrs. Murphy smiles widely.</p>
<p>“Oh, Connor, you did? That’s so thoughtful of you.”</p>
<p>Connor coughs and nods his head slowly. “Yeah, uh, sure. That’s what I did.”</p>
<p>“Wow,” Zoe says, surprised. “You never helped me with my homework,” she says, somewhat mumbled.</p>
<p>Mrs. Murphy ignores her. “Evan told us about that day in the orchard last summer.”</p>
<p>“Orchard?” Connor looks at Evan, who’s eyes widen to the size of golf balls. “Oh, yeah, the orchard. We went there all the time.”</p>
<p>Everyone pauses eating. “But, Evan said you went just the once?” Mrs. Murphy looks back and forth between Connor and Evan. Evan winces and holds his breath. He’s sure this is it. It's all over.</p>
<p>“Oh, yeah, well of course. What I meant was we wanted to go there again. All the time.” Connor seems to have snatched a victory from the jaws of defeat when Mrs. Murphy looks satisfied. Evan stares at Connor with curious interest. Why is he playing along? What does he get out of it?</p>
<p>“Yes, of course,” Mrs. Murphy says now. “And Evan told us about how when he fell out of the tree, you took him to the hospital because his arm was broken.” Mrs. Murphy smiles fondly, like she can’t believe she raised such a good-hearted son.</p>
<p>And with Connor being Connor, he nearly shouts with recognition. “Of course! The broken arm! I signed your cast, I remember now!”</p>
<p>Evan goes stock-still. Thinking they’ve definitely blown it this time, he waits for the Murphy’s to realize he’s been lying this whole time.</p>
<p>But Connor brings them back from the brink again, “I just… I’d forgotten that Ethan – ”</p>
<p>“– Evan,” Evan coughs quickly.</p>
<p> “– Evan. I’d forgotten that Evan broke his arm. I mean, it was so long ago,” Connor breathes a fake laugh.</p>
<p>Mrs. Murphy looks at Connor with concern. She must have caught on to something being wrong when he called Evan the wrong name, but she figures he must just be exhausted. “Well, I think it’s about time we head home," Mrs. Murphy stands. "Connor needs his sleep.”</p>
<p>Evan hears Connor mumble under his breath, “I’ve been sleeping for two months,” and Evan hides a smile at the joke.</p>
<p>Mrs. Murphy doesn’t hear him. “Besides, visiting hours are almost over. Evan, would you like a ride home?”</p>
<p>“Yes, please.” Evan looks at Connor, feeling relieved that this whole evening is almost over.</p>
<p>“I’ll go get the car,” Mr. Murphy speaks for the first time that night.</p>
<p>Mrs. Murphy begins cleaning up the remnants of dinner. “Connor, we’ll be back tomorrow to pick you up.”</p>
<p>“Pick him up?” Evan is confused.</p>
<p>Zoe speaks now, “The doc cleared him to go home.”</p>
<p>“Yes, but he’ll be coming back for weekly check-ups for a month, and he’ll be seeing a therapist twice a week.” Connor grumbles when Mrs. Murphy says this.</p>
<p>“I don’t see why –” he starts.</p>
<p>“Because you tried to kill yourself, Connor!” Mrs. Murphy suddenly loses her cool, and everyone goes silent. “You need to get better. People care about you.”</p>
<p>Evan sees Connor roll his eyes at this. Luckily, Mrs. Murphy is too busy tidying the room to notice.</p>
<p>When she’s satisfied with the cleanliness of the room, she turns back to Connor. "We’ll be here tomorrow afternoon. Zoe, Evan, let’s go. Larry is waiting for us with the car.”</p>
<p>Connor watches them leave. Evan is the last out the door. He pauses and gives Connor a small, awkward wave before closing the door behind him. He hears Connor let out a mocking laugh from the other side.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. First Date</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's Evan's first date with Zoe! o.O You might wanna wish him luck.</p><p>Chapter Warnings: some swearing, anxiety, mentions of familial dysfunction</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On Friday, Evan wakes up with a jolt. <em>It’s Friday</em>, he thinks. <em>I have my date with Zoe tonight.</em> And of course, he’s scared beyond belief. Jared and Alana both said they could come, though Evan might be slightly regretting inviting Jared now (“You scored a date?” Jared’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head in disbelief. “And you’re inviting me? Umm, obviously my answer is yes. I can’t wait to see how bad you fuck up!”). Alana, on the other hand, he thought might be a good asset to have on a first date. She always has something to say, and Evan knows that without her, his date would probably consist of a lot of awkward silences. Though they aren’t super good friends, he always felt a kind of kinship with Alana, especially when he realized that she, like him, doesn’t really seem to fit in anywhere.</p><p>He spends a few minutes laying still in bed, not in any rush to start the day. When he finally decides he ought to get up so that he won’t be late for school, he takes a couple of his anxiety pills before his feet even hit the floor. He dresses slowly, carefully, afraid that too much movement will set him off. Which is a ridiculous thought, he knows, but that doesn’t make these fears any less real for him. By the time he’s combed his hair, brushed his teeth, and trudged downstairs, his medication starts to kick in, and he begins to feel a little more normal. Or, at least, as normal as he ever feels.</p><p>He’s not sure he can stomach any food right now, but he packs an apple in his backpack just in case he needs it later. He won’t, but it’s always good to be prepared.</p><p>His mom is already gone to work – either that or she hasn’t finished her shift from last night – so Evan locks up the house and begins his half-mile walk to school. He could take the bus, but walking always had a calming effect on Evan. It’s November, almost Thanksgiving, so the morning air is crisp, and the New York suburbs are covered in a thin layer of frost that melts before Evan even makes it to school.</p><p>At his locker, Jared springs up out of nowhere, as usual, and scares Evan shitless, as usual. “You ready for tonight?”</p><p>He seems much too excited, Evan thinks. “Mhm,” Evan manages to hum, afraid that if he opens his mouth he might vomit. And his sickliness must show on his face, because Jared calms down a bit.</p><p>“Dude, there’s really nothing to be worried about. Just think of it as going out with a couple of friends, and getting to know a new friend. Forget the whole idea of a ‘date’.”</p><p>Evan doesn’t say anything, but he thinks that Jared is being uncharacteristically supportive. The bell rings, and Jared speeds off to his history class (one more tardy and Jared gets detention). And as Evan heads off to Spanish, he realizes that Jared might have actually given him some really good advice.</p><p>–</p><p>Somehow, Evan manages to make it through school without incident (even when Alana approaches him and Jared during lunch to gush about how excited she is to go out with them later, and she says the word “date” about twenty-three times).</p><p>When he gets home, he tries to do his homework. But after a half hour of distracted worksheets, he forgoes that idea, deciding he’s not going to get anything done until tonight is finally over. So instead he watches TV until four o’clock, when Zoe texts him.</p><p>
  <em>Zoe: hiiiiii just got out of jazz band :D </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Evan: hey :)</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Zoe: i’m so excited 4 2nite! i’m still picking you up @ 5 right?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Evan: yup</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Zoe: cool! so slight change of plans. connor is coming :/</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Evan: why</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Zoe: well my parents are making him come. they say that going out with friends will be good for him. :P but i can tell them that he can’t come if it bothers you</em>
</p><p>It bothers Evan. But he and Connor are supposed to be best friends, right?</p><p>
  <em>Evan: no it’s fine</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Zoe: okay! i promise he won’t ruin anything :) and jared and alana will meet us there</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Evan: okay</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Zoe: c u soon!</em>
</p><p>Evan’s a little bit apprehensive about Connor joining them. Would Evan have to pretend to be best friends with Connor all night, while trying to be on a date with his sister? Would he come between Evan and Zoe? Connor has a reputation of being a real downer (to put it lightly). Would he make things boring or awkward? But Evan looks down at Zoe’s last message and smiles a bit, her excitement a little intoxicating. <em>It’s just hanging out with friends</em>, he reminds himself, <em>forget about Connor</em>, and he goes upstairs to start getting ready.</p><p>Twenty minutes later, Evan is standing in socks and boxers in front of his open dresser. It’s times like these that Evan kind of wishes his dad was around to help. Finally, he pulls out a dark blue pair of jeans and a forest green button-up. He contemplates momentarily whether he should wear a tie, but then reminds himself that they’re going to Swillburger, probably the most casual place in town.</p><p>So he pulls on some off-brand sneakers, his jacket, takes his medication, brushes his hair (again), and takes a look in the mirror. <em>I guess that’s as good as it’s gonna get</em>, he thinks to himself.</p><p>And in his remaining ten minutes, he practices smiling. Which he knows is kind of a weird thing to do, but he doesn’t smile a whole lot, so he wants to make sure it doesn’t look weird when he does. When he hears Zoe honk outsides, he grabs his keys, wallet, and cellphone, and nearly trips down the stairs, effectively messing up his neatly combed hair. He tries to flatten it a bit before heading out the door.</p><p>In his front yard, Zoe waves at him through the window of her 1970’s VW Beetle. Evan can see Connor sulking in the backseat as he approaches the car.</p><p>“Hey!” Zoe nearly yells, smiling widely.</p><p>“Hi,” Evan says a little timidly.</p><p>“I’m so excited! This is gonna be great!”</p><p>As Evan takes the passenger seat, he sees Connor make a face and scoff in the rearview mirror.</p><p>“Ugh, ignore him. He’s just salty ‘cause I made him sit in the backseat,” Zoe says, and Connor flips her off. Evan decides not to comment, but instead notices how perfect Zoe looks tonight. She’s wearing high waisted jeans and a yellow sweater that’s so short that it just covers her midriff. Her hair is pulled up into a high ponytail with one of those decorative hair ties (Evan <em>thinks</em> they’re called “scrunchies”, but he’s not entirely sure), and she’s wearing a pair of dangling, feather earrings. So, perfect. But like she didn’t have to try to look perfect.</p><p>So, he blurts out, “You look perfect,” before he realizes what he’s doing, and then Connor is snickering loudly behind him. But Zoe ignores Connor and thanks Evan, smiling brightly.</p><p>“Not so bad yourself, Hansen. That’s a great color on you!” She motions to his shirt, and he gives a little smile back.</p><p>“Oh my god, get a fucking room,” Connor groans.</p><p>Zoe whips around. “I will not hesitate to take you back home, and you’ll have to spend the rest of the night with Mom and Dad. Alone.”</p><p>Connor shuts up.</p><p>Zoe smirks at him before starting up the engine.</p><p>The rest of the ride goes fine; Zoe does most of the talking, which Evan is grateful for, and Connor doesn’t say anything else. When they pull up to the old church, Jared and Alana are already there, waving, which Evan is also grateful for. He’s not sure he could survive another minute of Connor glaring at him through the rearview mirror.</p><p>As they make their way up the steps and into the arcade, with Alana spitting out facts about Swillburger (“Did you know, this is actually an old, renovated church, which is why there’s that rosette window, which is actually a very popular window used in churches, especially in European architecture built during the Gothic period…”), Jared slips beside Evan and whispers, “Dude, why is the druggie here?”</p><p>Evan blanches, but lucky for him, Zoe and Connor are being ushered inside by Alana, her incessant talking covering up Jared’s comment. “I dunno, Zoe brought him, okay? Look, can we just… Can you be civil? Just for tonight.” Evan looks pleadingly at Jared, and Jared gives him a curt nod.</p><p>“Yeah, whatever. But only if you call me ‘The Insanely Cool Jared Kleinman’ for the rest of the night.” Jared smiles mischievously and winks.</p><p>“What? No, I’m not gonna… No.”</p><p>“Fine. Your funeral.” Jared strides into the arcade with Evan on his heels. But Evan’s not worried too much; he knows that Jared will respect his request. Or at least, he hopes.</p><p>Alana waves at them from a table. “Guys, over here!” Connor is sitting next to her, looking all too unhappy with his seating arrangement. Evan makes his way over and sits next to Zoe, and Jared sits on the other side of Alana. “So what should we order? I’m thinking veggie pizza – it’s my favorite. But really, I’ll eat anything, if you guys want to order something else.” Evan gives Alana a little smile, trying to convey that she should stop trying so hard to please everyone. Her barely restrained desperation for approval is peaking through.</p><p>But everyone else agrees, and Zoe gets up to go place their order; Evan moves to follow her to help pay, but she won’t hear of it. “I asked <em>you</em> out, Evan, so I’m paying. But you’re picking up the bill next time,” she says and winks. And Evan, dumbstruck, stays seated, because the idea of another date with Zoe Murphy is almost too good to be true.</p><p>And as they wait for Zoe to return, Evan finds himself thinking once again how glad he is that Alana is here, because she manages to fill the silent void that surely would have sucked all the air out of the arcade if it had just been him, Jared, and Connor. Or worse, Jared would have filled the void with sarcastic and rude comments. "We actually have a church in the city, you know Saint Patrick's Cathedral? It's actually considered neo-Gothic, so, like, inspired by the Gothic period. But the most obvious example of Gothic architecture would be the Notre-Dame de Paris, because it was actually the very first completely Gothic cathedral in Paris, and it literally translates into 'Our Lady of Paris' because it catered to pretty much everyone in the city. And by that I mean that the rich were, like, educated, right? So they could read the Bible and attend church. But the poor and illiterate could also 'attend church' in a sense because the exterior of the Notre-Dame is covered in detailed sculptures and reliefs that vividly illustrate biblical stories, so that the lower classes could understand religion." Alana finally stops talking, her cheeks having turned a bright red from the quick nature by which she speaks. Evan smiles a little awkwardly, Jared looks bored, and Connor seems to have exited the conversation altogether, staring off into space and out of a window.</p><p>"How do you remember all this stuff?" Jared asks, slightly exasperated.</p><p>"I dunno. I just retain a lot of information about things I find interesting, I guess. And I find a <em>lot</em> of things interesting. From medicine to politics to history to anthropology... Like, ketchup was considered a medicine to help with indigestion throughout the nineteenth century. And in 1916, a woman named Jeanette Rankin was elected into Congress, four years before women could legally vote! Or how about that the ancient Romans were the ones to kind of begin the 'middle name' trend." Alana pauses as Zoe sits back down at the table. "The ancient Romans had a sort of middle name, but it had a different function as middle names today. It was kind of like a nickname for them. Really, we didn’t start using middle names until the late eighteenth century, and then it was just to honor family members, like grandparents or godparents. Which is why my parents named me Alana Grace, for my great grandma. She actually died the day I was born.” Alana finishes her speaking with vigor, her eyes shining, and Jared looks a little creeped out by her last sentence.</p><p>“Middle names, huh? Mine’s Ruth, for Babe Ruth.” Everyone laughs, thinking she’s joking. “I’m not joking,” she explains, “My dad won the coin toss. He’s a big baseball fan,” she smiles cheerily.</p><p>“Uhh, well, my middle name is Marion,” Jared says, “because of my grandad.” Evan smiles; Jared’s middle name always amuses him.</p><p>Alana laughs under her breath before turning to Evan. "Your turn. What's your middle name?"</p><p>“It’s, um… Evan,” he says lamely.</p><p>“Wait,” Alana seems severely confused, “Your name is ‘Evan Evan Hansen’?” She looks incredulous.</p><p>Jared snorts and answers for Evan. “No, his first name is Mark! But he doesn’t tell anyone ‘cause he doesn’t want his initials to be ‘MEH’,” Jared cackles maliciously.</p><p>“Shut up,” Evan turns crimson.</p><p>Zoe gives him a perplexed look. “Well, then why don’t you go by ‘Mark’ and just not tell people your middle name?”</p><p>“Mark is my dad’s name,” Evan says bitterly, and the conversation comes to a halt.</p><p>They spend a second looking awkwardly at each other, because everyone in Evan’s grade knows that Evan’s dad left his mom, and Evan doesn’t like to talk about it. It was the big scandal of second grade.</p><p>Jared, who seems to feel somewhat guilty for outing Evan’s name, decides to take matters into his own hands, albeit with a strange change in subject. “Speaking of growing up without a father," Evan blinks, "my moms were the ones who decided to give me a girl's middle name. Honestly, I think they <em>wanted</em> a girl. They had no idea what to do with a boy, they had absolutely no handle on me. When I was a kid, I used to run around the house naked,” Jared says sheepishly, and everyone laughs. “I’m pretty sure my moms thought I was going to be a nudist.”</p><p>“I used to collect worms,” Zoe adds to the conversation. “I would put as many as I could into a bucket and come running into the house to show my parents. They hated it!” Zoe laughs now. “Of course, I released them every night. I was probably collecting the same worms every day.”</p><p>“I remember that,” Connor smiles a little fondly, speaking for the first time since the car. Evan is struck with how nice his smile is, when he isn’t smirking.</p><p>It’s Alana’s turn now. She scrunches up her face, trying to remember something. “I remember dressing my Ken dolls in Barbie’s clothes, and Barbie in Ken’s clothes.” She smiles, a little proudly. “What about you, Evan?”</p><p>Evan is a little embarrassed. He doesn’t have any crazy childhood stories, but he manages to say, “I, uh, <em>insisted</em> that I have a Ninja Turtles nightlight. To keep the, um, bad guys away.” He blushes a bit and rubs the back of his neck.</p><p>“Aww, Evan, that’s too cute!” Zoe smiles endearingly at him, which just makes him blush harder. “Well, Connor was super jealous that I got to take ballet lessons and he didn’t. So I used to teach him what we learned in class and we’d practice together.” Zoe smiles over at Connor, who seems shocked that his secret was revealed without his consent.</p><p>“I’ve been betrayed,” Connor says somewhat dramatically, “by my own blood.” Jared snickers.</p><p>But before Connor can retaliate with an equally embarrassing story of Zoe, their pizza arrives, and the conversation lulls as everyone happily chows down. “I got an extra-large, so everyone eat up!” Zoe says. Evan manages to get one slice down before deciding he’s too nervous to eat, because Connor is eyeing him like Evan is a suspicious criminal and Zoe is holding his hand beneath the table. He knows that the extra slices that he doesn’t eat won’t go to waste due to Jared’s bottomless pit of a stomach.</p><p>When there’s nothing left but crumbs, Zoe pulls Evan up and tows him toward her favorite arcade game: Guitar Hero. Evan’s never played before, but Zoe shows him the ropes and he catches on relatively quickly. Pretty soon, he’s forgotten all about sweaty hands under the table and he’s actually… enjoying himself. Which is something he never thought he'd say on a date. Especially with a perfect girl standing next to him, laughing and smiling at his little fumbles. Evan doesn’t think he’s been this relaxed since… well, he can’t even remember when he was this relaxed before. He’s so relaxed in fact, that he doesn’t realize how closely Connor is watching him all night, observing his every move. Something like that would have made Evan incredibly uncomfortable, but luckily for him, Zoe takes up all of his attention.</p><p>Everyone battles each other for the next hour. Evan versus Jared on Street Fighter, Jared versus Alana on NBA Jam, Connor versus Zoe on Galaga, and Alana versus Evan on Space Invaders. Evan watches Alana get crushed by Zoe on Dance Dance Revolution, and his heart swells a bit.</p><p>Of course, he knows the night won’t last forever, as much as he wishes it would. He feels like, for the first time in his life, he has friends (or, very very close acquaintances, since he doesn’t know Alana, Zoe, or Connor very well, and Jared refuses to call what they have a "friendship"). For once in his life, he might actually belong somewhere. Like he isn’t invisible. Like, if he disappeared, someone might actually care. And he knows it’s a bit sad, and that this all came about because of a lie, but he might be happier than he’s been in a long time.</p><p>–</p><p>It’s around eight o’clock when they get back to Evan’s house. Zoe walks him to the front door while Connor waits in the car, no longer sulking but looking a bit bored.</p><p>“I really had a good time tonight, Evan.”</p><p>“Y-yeah, no, it was actually, really fun. I-I mean, not that I didn’t expect it. To be fun, I mean.” It’s the end of the night, and Evan’s seen the movies. He knows what she’s expecting. But he’s not sure he’s going to be able to do it. He shuffles his feet and plays with his shirt hem. “So, I’ll see you later?” Maybe he can skip the obligatory goodnight kiss at the front door.</p><p>“Oh, wait, um… I was actually wondering if you’d like to come to dinner on Sunday? At my house. It wouldn’t be a date or anything; I just figured we could hang out, maybe even with Connor, since you’ve hardly spent any time with him since he woke up. And my parents want to see you again, of course, they love you!” She smiles, and Evan notices her cheeks a little pink from the cold. “And I could pick you up if –”</p><p>“N-no no, um, I mean, I can walk. I’ll be there.” Evan knows that his mom will be home on Sunday, and he’s not sure he’s ready to explain that he’s suddenly got a girlfriend. Is girlfriend the right word? They’d only been on one date.</p><p>Zoe looks relieved. “Good. I mean, that’s great, I’m excited.”</p><p>They stand there, underneath Evan’s porch light, both looking unsure of what comes next. Evan’s wondering if maybe she’s waiting for him to make a move this time, but then Connor honks the horn annoyingly and they both come back to their senses.</p><p>“So, Sunday,” Zoe says.</p><p>“Yeah, Sunday,” Evan repeats. They both smile. Zoe turns and walks back to her car, giving a little wave before jumping in and starting the motor. Evan, hands in his pockets, watches her pull out of his driveway and out of view, before unlocking his front door.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I've never really understood why people are embarrassed about their middle names, but that was always a source of teasing when I was in school. Maybe I just don't get it because my middle name is Madison. Not much to embarrass me about that.</p><p>Also, when Evan talks about his Ninja Turtles nightlight, that's a reference to the song "In the Bedroom Down the Hall", which was scrapped from the final musical. If you haven't listened to it, I highly recommend. </p><p>When everyone is talking about embarrassing things they did as kids, those are all things that I actually did as a kid. So. That's some fun trivia about me.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Dinner at the Murphy's</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello again! Thank you for reading this story! Please let me know what you think in the comments! Seriously, as cheesy as it sounds, my heart honest to god SWELLS with happiness whenever I get a comment!<br/>Chapter Warnings: some swearing, some smoking (cigarettes)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Evan spends all of Saturday doing homework. It’s his last year of high school, and his teachers are determined to make sure that he doesn’t enjoy it. On Sunday, his mom has the unbelievably rare day off, so they spend as much time as they can together. They wake up later than usual, around ten o’clock, and his mom makes his favorite breakfast: walnut and banana pancakes. They eat in front of the television, watching reruns of Gilligan’s Island and The Andy Griffith Show. His mom comments absentmindedly that she had a crush on Russel Johnson when she was a teenager; Evan teases her, and they both laugh. It’s easy.</p><p>After breakfast, they pull out their favorite board game (Monopoly, Lord of the Rings Edition – because they’re both nerds) and spend a solid hour tactically collecting land and building strongholds and fortresses. His mom asks him the mandatory questions (Evan assures her that he’s keeping on top of his homework, he’s turned in all his college applications, and he’s working on several scholarship essays), and then they chat offhandedly about their separate lives, catching each other up since their last day spent together. It turns out that Heidi is up for a promotion at work (“It’s really nothing, I’ll only be making about ten cents more per hour.” “No, Mom, that’s great. You should be proud. I’m proud of you,” Evan says reassuringly, making his mom beam.), and Evan tells her about spending time with Jared and Alana (he makes a point to leave out specific details and any mention of the Murphy siblings).</p><p>When Heidi finally decides to forfeit to Evan, she explains that she’s got homework for her law classes. Evan goes around the house doing some chores, letting her have some time to concentrate. They decide to have a late lunch around three o’clock (grilled cheese – the one thing that Evan <em>can</em> make) before Evan excuses himself to go get ready for the Murphy’s dinner. He decides on the same dark blue jeans and jacket he wore on Friday, but this time with a burgundy collared shirt. He attempts to sneak quietly back downstairs, but his mom catches him.</p><p>“You’re looking nice, Evan. Got a date or something?” Evan knows that she’s teasing, but that doesn’t stop him from going a bit pink.</p><p>“N-no, definitely not. I’m just… having dinner with Jared. And his moms. They’re celebrating, uh…” Evan scrunches his nose. Sometimes he wishes he knew when to shut up. “Yom Kippur?”</p><p>“Yom Kippur? Isn’t that usually, like, in September?”</p><p>“Yeah, uh, but it’s… late. This year.”</p><p>Heidi doesn’t question him. She knows less about the Jewish holidays than Evan does. “Oh, okay, well, have fun, honey! Don’t stay out too late.”</p><p>“Thanks, Mom.” Evan gives a mental sigh of relief, quietly apologizing to God for using Yom Kippur as an excuse to not explain himself to his mom. He knows that Jared wouldn’t mind; in fact, he’d probably find the situation hilarious. But even though Evan isn’t particularly religious, he’s always been cautious about being respectful to other people’s beliefs.</p><p>He closes and locks the front door and begins his trek to the Murphy’s house. It’s really only a ten-minute walk, but Evan doesn’t want to be late. Being late makes him nervous.</p><p>Approaching the house, he sees Connor sitting in the front yard on the grass, smoking a cigarette. Evan looks around, hoping that Zoe is out front too, but no luck. He’s going to have to make small talk with Connor.</p><p>“Well, if it isn’t my best friend, Evan Hansen,” Connor smirks as Evan comes to stand beside him. Connor pats the grass next to him, “Take a seat, ol’ buddy pal of mine.”</p><p>Evan sits and smiles timidly. “Are you supposed to be smoking?” He looks apprehensively at the cancer stick poking out of Connor’s mouth.</p><p>“Um, yeah? Larry and Cynthia don’t give a shit. Unless you’re talking about legally? Then, no. I won’t be eighteen ‘til March.” Connor takes a long drag and puffs the smoke into the sky.</p><p>“Oh. I turned eighteen in September. The twenty-fourth.” Evan watches Connor’s lips as he takes another drag.</p><p>“You’re joking. You’re older than me? Fuck. You act like a twelve-year-old.”</p><p>Evan huffs a laugh, “No, I know.”</p><p>Connor watches him for a moment before deciding something. “Well, since we’re <em>best friends</em>, and you’re eighteen and all, I guess that means I can rely on you to buy me cigarettes from now on, huh?” Connor winks at him.</p><p>Evan can’t tell if Connor is flirting with him or threatening him. But, he’s probably threatening him. “Hah,” Evan manages. “About that… what do you… why are you going along with all of this? I mean, you could easily tell everyone the truth. You don’t have any reason to help me.”</p><p>“Help you?” Connor barks a laugh. “Yeah, right. I’m helping myself, kid. For some reason, Larry and Cynthia (and Zoe) like you, so being associated with you keeps them off my back. Cynthia thinks I’m getting better because I have a ‘friend’. Plus, you’re my new source for cigarettes. So, yeah. Do I love the idea of you fucking my sister? Nope. But I’m getting something out of it, so do whatever the fuck you want.”</p><p>Evan splutters, “I’m not, never, I wouldn’t, not with Zoe –”</p><p>And before Evan can implode, Connor groans, “Okay, please stop hyperventilating.”</p><p>“I wasn’t –”</p><p>“I just said I don’t care. As long as Larry and Cynthia are happy, I’m fine.” Connor takes another several drags from his cigarette.</p><p>“Why do you call them ‘Larry and Cynthia’?” Evan’s curious, but Connor glares at him.</p><p>“You know we’re not <em>actually </em>friends, right? You don’t have to sit out here and make small talk.”</p><p>Evan blushes again. He blushes far too often. “I know, I just… want to, I guess.” Evan looks away, so he doesn’t see Connor’s face soften a bit. It’s quiet again.</p><p>Connor finishes his cigarette. “Fuck, it’s cold out here.”</p><p>“Why don’t you wear a jacket?”</p><p>Connor looks at him disbelievingly. “Because someone stole it,” he says, looking pointedly at Evan.</p><p>“O-oh. I didn’t… here, you can have it,” Evan moves to take the jacket off. He’d almost forgotten it was Connor’s.</p><p>But Connor stops him, “Nah, it’s fine. It suits you.” Evan finds himself smiling. “Come on, Hansen,” Connor stands. “Let’s start this god-forsaken meal and get it over with.”</p><p>Evan follows him into the house, where he’s greeted merrily by Zoe. “Evan!” She shouts excitedly and wraps her arms around his neck to pull him in for a hug. He stiffens; he’s still not used to anyone touching him. But she smells nice, like flowers, and her skin is soft, so it’s not altogether unpleasant. And Zoe’s hug is followed by one from Mrs. Murphy, who’s warm and smells of kitchen spices, so Evan thinks maybe he could get used to the whole “hugging” thing. Evan spots Mr. Murphy on the couch reading <em>War and Peace</em>. Evan knows by now that Mr. Murphy doesn’t like to be interrupted while he’s reading, but Evan doesn’t want to be rude, so he greets Mr. Murphy despite the massive book in his lap. Mr. Murphy hums a response.</p><p>“We’re so glad you could come over tonight, Evan,” Mrs. Murphy welcomes him. “I’m making lamb roast – you like lamb roast, right?” She suddenly seems concerned. Evan, who’s never had lamb before, merely nods his head. Mrs. Murphy smiles with relief. “Well, it won’t be ready for another hour or so, so you kids go ahead and do whatever it is teenagers do these days.” She winks, like she’s in-the-know, and Evan can only think that he wishes <em>he</em> knew what it is that teenagers do these days. On the rare occasion that he’s hung out with Jared, they mostly just played video games.</p><p>Zoe pulls Evan into the family room, and, to Evan’s surprise, Connor follows them. Zoe’s chatting about her plans for their week off for Thanksgiving, mostly homework and stuff for jazz band. “I’m actually writing a new piece. I’d love for you to hear it when it’s done, Evan, since I know how much you like ‘jazz band jazz’,” she teases him.</p><p>Evan smiles meekly, “Oh, yeah, great.” Connor is watching him again, like he’s studying Evan. Evan doesn’t like it. “S-so, your dad reads a lot, huh? Tolstoy. That’s… big.”</p><p>Zoe thinks for a moment. “He didn’t used to… mostly when he came home from work, he just did more work. He never really did anything for himself before. It’s kinda sad, actually. But, when Connor landed himself in the hospital,” she looks accusingly at Connor, and he rolls his eyes, “he started reading, like, all the time. It’s a good escape, I guess.” (Connor mumbles, “Yeah. If only he’d stop stealing my books.”)</p><p>“That’s good. Good to have a dad that… cares, I guess.” Evan stares at his hands, so he doesn’t notice the look that Zoe and Connor exchange.</p><p>“Hey, how about we play cards? Do you play cards, Evan? How about Shithead? Connor, go get the card deck.” Connor flips her off, but gets up anyway. Zoe takes Evan’s hand. “Hey. I know that your dad leaving must have been… tough. I mean, I can’t say that I understand, but I’m here. If you want to talk about it.” Zoe peers into Evan’s eyes.</p><p>“What? No, I don’t, he… he left so long ago, it doesn’t even matter anymore.”</p><p>Zoe purses her lips, and when Connor returns, she lets go of Evan’s hand. They play three rounds of Shithead before Mrs. Murphy calls them to dinner. Zoe wins all three rounds; apparently, it’s her favorite game, and she used to make Connor play with her all the time.</p><p>When they enter the living room, Mrs. Murphy asks how their game went. “Good,” Zoe replies, “Evan and Connor are both Shitheads.”</p><p>Connor says, “Fuck you,” to which Mrs. Murphy replies, “Connor, watch your language!” And Connor just glares at her because Zoe just said shithead, and <em>she</em> didn’t get reprimanded. Everyone sits (Evan between Zoe and Connor) and says grace (Evan notices that Zoe’s hands are warm and soft, whereas Connor’s hands are cold).</p><p>They start eating, and Evan, upon realizing how incredibly delicious the lamb roast is, almost begins inhaling it. He tries to pace himself, altering between the lamb, the brussel sprouts, and the potatoes. Mrs. Murphy asks Evan what his plans are for Thanksgiving.</p><p>Evan swallows a big bite of food. “Oh, uh, well, my mom is working. So, I’m gonna bring her dinner on her break.”</p><p>“Oh, how nice,” Mrs. Murphy smiles.</p><p>“Yeah, she gets holiday pay, but I’m still kinda bummed that she has to work, so…”</p><p>Suddenly Connor says, almost absentmindedly, “‘There is prodigious strength in sorrow and despair.’”</p><p>Mr. Murphy nearly jumps out of his chair in excitement, “Oh! Oh, uh, <em>A Tale of Two Cities</em>!” He’s shouting and pointing at Connor.</p><p>Connor, who is so shocked that he can’t come up with a sarcastic reply, merely says, “Yeah… how did y–”</p><p>Zoe rolls her eyes and explains to Evan, “He does this all the time. He’s always saying obscure quotes from books, and no one ever knows what he’s talking about. But I guess Dad knows the quote this time…”</p><p>Mr. Murphy is grinning at Connor, “I finished that one the other night.” Mrs. Murphy looks almost as shocked as Connor; clearly, she wasn’t expecting family dinner to be interrupted by her husband jumping up and down like an excited child.</p><p>“That’s, uh… great, Larry,” Connor says, and turns back to his plate, stabbing a potato. Mr. Murphy’s smile falters a bit; Mrs. Murphy pats him on the shoulder.</p><p>“<em>A Tale of Two Cities</em>…” Evan hesitates. “Isn’t that by Charles Dickens?”</p><p>Connor nods. “It’s about this group of people who’s lives intertwine in the years leading up to the French Revolution. It’s kind of like a tragic love story with a lot of political unrest thrown in, but it’s really all about redemption and the duality of man…” Connor stops when he realizes all eyes are on him. “What?”</p><p>“It’s just…” Mrs. Murphy begins.</p><p>Zoe finishes for her. “We’ve never heard you talk about something with such a passion. And you probably just said more at one time than you have in your entire life.” Zoe shrugs and goes back to eating, popping a brussel sprout in her mouth.</p><p>“It’s just a good book, that’s all.” Connor mumbles.</p><p>“It’s great honey. I wish you had that enthusiasm for your schoolwork.” Mrs. Murphy turns and talks to Evan like Connor isn’t there, “He’s failing trigonometry. Of course, two months in the hospital didn’t help…”</p><p>Connor lets out a huff, and Zoe offers, “Evan’s great at math! He’s in Calculus with Mr. Davis! I bet he could tutor Connor.”</p><p>Evan and Connor both gawk at each other. Evan blanches.</p><p>“N-no, no, I’m sure C-Connor can –”</p><p>“Cynthia, no, Hansen doesn’t want to –”</p><p>“I mean, there’s o-other people, they’re smarter –”</p><p>“I really don’t need a –”</p><p>“Of course, we’d pay you, Evan,” Mrs. Murphy speaks over Evan’s and Connor’s stammers.</p><p>At this, Evan goes from white to red in a blink. “I couldn’t, not your –”</p><p>“You don’t need to pay him –”</p><p>“– could never take your –”</p><p>“Look at him, you’re killing him –”</p><p>“I’m very busy –”</p><p>“He’s got his own stuff –”</p><p>“Oh, hush, you two. What’s the big deal? You’re friends, after all.” Mrs. Murphy smiles. “It’s settled.”</p><p>Evan and Connor stare at each other. It’s bad enough having to date Zoe with Connor around, now he has to spend time with Connor <em>alone</em>? No, wait, maybe this is a good thing? Maybe he and Connor will actually become friends and Evan won’t have to lie anymore?</p><p>Who is he kidding? Connor will <em>never</em> be his friend.</p><p>Evan’s hands are sweaty for the rest of the night.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A few notes - I know that today, in 2020, the legal smoking age is 21 in New York. But at the time the original Broadway musical was released in 2015, the smoking age was 18. I know that's not really all that important, but I'm writing this story set in 2015 and trying to stay as true as possible to that year. Of course, as I don't live in New York, I have to rely on the internet for a lot of reference information, which isn't always the best source. If you're a New Yorker and notice any continuity errors, let me know!<br/>Secondly - CONNOR IS IN THERAPY! He's just not very happy about it at the moment and relies on Evan's presence to keep his parents happy, because Murphy parents happy = Connor happy.<br/>And finally - Zoe tries to talk to Evan about his dad. In the last chapter I explained that everyone in Evan's grade knows that Evan's dad left Evan's mom, and that it was the "scandal of second grade". But Zoe would have been in first grade, so she doesn't really know the whole story. Jared knows that Evan is bitter about it, Alana is afraid of confrontation, and Connor just doesn't really care, which is why they don't pressure Evan to talk about it. Zoe, on the other hand, thinks that Evan misses his dad, and she wants to be a Good Girlfriend and get him to open up about it. Just in case that wasn't clear.<br/>Okay! That's all for now!<br/>P.S.- I highly recommend looking up and playing Shithead if you haven't. It's very fun and addictive.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Friends?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's been almost exactly a month since I lasted posted. School really sucks the fun out of writing, whether it be academic or creative.</p><p>In truth, I've written almost all of the story, apart from the last few chapters, but the story kind of follows along a typical school year, so I've been trying to hold off posting so that each chapter corresponds with the time of the year for Evan and his classmates. This chapter is based in the end of November and early December, but I figured it'd just be mean of me to not post anything for two months.</p><p>Anyway, this chapter is pretty clean of warnings! I think the only thing is some swearing, but I mean, any chapter with Jared or Connor is going to have swearing. And every chapter has at least one of them in it, so... sorry.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s on Monday, after Thanksgiving, when Evan and Jared are sitting together at lunch that they get a surprise Murphy visit. Not from Zoe – she has a different lunch period than them.</p><p>Connor plops himself down next to Evan, and Jared goes bug-eyed, dropping his sandwich. “Uhh, hi,” Jared stares.</p><p>Connor scrutinizes him. “Don’t talk to me.”</p><p>Jared snorts. “You’re sitting right across from me. How can I <em>not</em> talk to you?”</p><p>“Um, Connor? Not to be rude, but what are you doing here?” Evan asks as politely as he can.</p><p>Connor merely shrugs, “Eating lunch,” he says before taking a large bite out of an apple.</p><p>Evan and Jared exchange looks. “Right. So does this make us, like, cool and dangerous now? Sitting with the school druggie?”</p><p>Evan’s eyes widen, “Jared!”</p><p>Connor doesn’t say anything, but he stops chewing and is holding the apple so tightly Evan’s sure it’s going to bruise. He gets up and storms off, leaving his lunch behind. Well <em>that </em>didn’t last long.</p><p>Evan turns on Jared. “I can’t believe you would say that.”</p><p>“What? It’s the truth! Everyone’s thinking it, and no one really cares ‘cause, I mean, it’s <em>Connor</em>.”</p><p>Sometimes Evan can’t believe he hangs out with Jared. But Evan can’t stand up to him; Jared’s his only friend. He doesn’t want to push him away. Even if he’s a serious ass sometimes.</p><p>But Connor surprises them both when he sits down with them again on Tuesday. And by Friday, Alana has joined them, Jared starts to figure out when to shut up, and Connor manages to sit through an entire lunch without going off in a huff. And its easy, talking to these people who know little to nothing about him and his life. They don’t know he struggles with anxiety and depression and god only knows what other mental illnesses. They talk about nothing important, and sometimes they don’t talk at all, but it’s a comfortable silence. They chew and watch all the other people in the cafeteria. They have a designated table in the middle of the room, and Evan knows exactly where he’s going to eat lunch every day. He doesn’t have to worry about eating alone, or skipping lunch altogether, because there’s always someone at the table waiting for him. Waiting for him. Relying on his presence. Again, Evan finds himself wondering if this is what it feels like to have friends. And how long will this last? Evan has to remind himself to not get too attached to these people and these happy feelings. He knows that they’ll leave him eventually; people don’t stick around forever. Evan would know.</p><p>But despite how things seem to be going fine with school and with Zoe, Evan is still struggling with dealing with Connor – especially during their tutoring sessions. Connor shows up late, forgets to bring his trigonometry book, doesn’t listen when Evan is speaking, refuses to do the assignments, and spends most of the session on a “smoke break”. It’s been like this for two weeks, and Evan’s just about ready to give up and tell Mrs. Murphy that tutoring Connor is useless.</p><p>It’s the first Thursday of December, around five o’clock, and Evan is sitting alone at the kitchen table. Connor was meant to be at his house at four-thirty, but he’s late. Big surprise. Evan gave up texting Connor about five minutes ago and begins thinking vaguely of dinner. Should he order something? Connor might be hungry when he comes over. <em>If </em> he comes over. Maybe Evan should order Chinese takeout – eating his favorite food might make Connor more receptive to being tutored. Evan is searching Google for the nearest Chinese restaurant when the doorbell rings. <em>Finally.</em></p><p>Evan opens the door. “You’re forty minutes late.”</p><p>Connor just smiles. “Taco?” He’s holding up a paper bag with the words “Moe’s Southwest Grill” printed on it. “Traffic’s a bitch.” Evan rolls his eyes - Connor's house is only about a ten minute walk from his - but takes the bag anyway, and Connor brushes past him, into the kitchen. “Your mom working tonight?”</p><p>Evan follows Connor into the kitchen and sets the bag on the table, suddenly suspicious when Connor mentions Heidi. “Yeah… why?”</p><p>Connor smiles mischievously and pulls two bottles out of his backpack that look suspiciously like alcohol. Evan’s eyes widen. “I brought a lager for me, and I figured you’ve never had alcohol, so you’ll want to take it easy with a hard cider.”</p><p>“Uhm – I don’t –?”</p><p>“I’m not gonna force you, I’m not as ass. I brought sarsaparilla just in case,” Connor pulls out two more bottles.</p><p>“Sarsaparilla?”</p><p>“Root beer.”</p><p>Is Connor being… considerate? Of Evan’s feelings? That’s new. And it’s nice. “Yeah, I’ll take a root beer.”</p><p>Connor nods understandingly. “You mind if I drink?”</p><p>Evan shakes his head. “No. I mean, I’m not your, your mother.” Evan teases Connor shakily. If Connor is trying to be friendly on Evan’s level – kind and thoughtful – maybe Evan can make an effort to be friendly on Connor’s level – playful and cool.</p><p>It works. Connor chuckles. “Evan Hansen, slamming on my mother,” he winks. Evan grins.</p><p>They sit down to eat their tacos, talking about nothing in particular. When they finish, Connor pulls his trig textbook from the depths of his backpack, and Evan almost gawks. He pulls himself together – Evan doesn’t know what changed with Connor, but he doesn’t want to mess it up. So he doesn’t mention it. Yet.</p><p>Having finished their first drinks, Connor pulls the hard cider and the second sarsaparilla from the fridge and cracks them open. He places them in the middle of the table – an invitation if Evan wants it, but no pressure. Evan decides to stick with the sarsaparilla. Connor shrugs and takes a swig of the hard cider.</p><p>“So… should we start?”</p><p>“Teach me, oh master,” Connor says exaggeratedly. So Evan teaches him. Or, he tries to. He’s not sure how much sticks to Connor’s brain, or really if Connor even understands what Evan’s saying, but Evan can tell that he’s trying. Connor scrunches up his eyebrows in concentration just like Evan’s noticed Zoe does when she’s playing a particularly difficult piece during jazz band. Evan’s always thought it was kind of cute on Zoe, and he thinks it looks just as endearing on Connor.</p><p>It starts raining just before seven o’clock. Evan suggests they stop here for tonight because Connor still has to walk home – neither he nor Evan have a car.</p><p>As Connor packs up his backpack, Evan thanks him for bringing dinner. “No problem.” Evan walks him to the front door, and Connor pauses. “Hey, it’s supposed to still be raining tomorrow. Want me to tell Zoe to pick you up? You walk to school, right?”</p><p>Evan is slightly taken aback at Connor’s generosity, but he nods his head. “Yeah, yeah that’d be nice.”</p><p>Connor gives Evan a small smile before leaving. “See you tomorrow, Hansen!” He shouts as he struts down the driveway. Evan closes the door behind him.</p><p>–</p><p>“You have shit taste in music,” Connor says from the backseat.</p><p>“At least my music has a beat,” Zoe retorts. Connor doesn’t respond.</p><p>Evan’s sitting in the passenger seat as Zoe drives them all to school. Connor was right – it’s still raining, though not as hard as it was last night. Evan thinks he could’ve walked to school, but he didn’t want to be rude and refuse the offer of a ride this morning.</p><p>“I hope Connor didn’t drive you crazy last night. He makes me nuts sometimes,” Zoe rolls her eyes when they halt at a red stoplight. Connor, the man of few words, flips her off in his typical fashion. Only this time, Zoe turns around and flips him off right back. Evan wonders if this is how all siblings act.</p><p>Though Evan kind of agrees with Connor – Zoe’s music taste is… particular. She listens to pretty much all genres, but everything has a twist to it. Like, she likes rock music, but only if it’s from the late 90’s and early 2000’s. Evan, who prefers classic rock from the 80’s, isn’t such a big fan of Nickelback and Avril Lavigne. “What music do you listen to,” Evan asks Connor.</p><p>Connor glances at Evan, seemingly abashed. “Like, folk and stuff.”</p><p>Evan likes folk music. He’s always thought it was kind of calming. Plus, a lot of folk songs talk about nature, which Evan tends to enjoy. Of course, Evan doesn’t say any of this. He just nods his head a bit.</p><p>“It’s fucking green, Zo,” Connor says suddenly, and Zoe flips around and starts driving.</p><p>“Folk music,” Zoe makes a face. “I mean, it’s alright, I guess. But you just can’t dance to it.”</p><p>Evan supposes that’s true. “How about alternative?”</p><p>“Alternative’s good,” Connor says, while Zoe makes another face. She turns up the volume when “Her Diamonds” by Rob Thomas comes on. Connor smiles, “Fine, this is a good song,” he concedes. He taps his fingers against his thigh throughout the first two stanzas, but come the chorus, both Connor and Zoe start singing out loud.</p><p>
  <em>And she says, oh</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I can’t take no more</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Her tears like diamonds on the floor</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And her diamonds bring me down</em>
</p><p>
  <em>‘Cause I can’t help her now</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She’s down in it</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She tried her best and now she can’t win it</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s hard to see them on the ground</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Her diamonds falling down</em>
</p><p>Evan smiles slightly as their voices crack. It’s a bit too early to belt out a ballad, since they’d only woken up an hour before and hadn’t warmed up their voices yet.</p><p>They pull into the school parking lot, and Zoe keeps the car running until Rob finishes his song. She and Connor continue harmonizing until the last note, while Evan watches amusedly. With the song over, Connor says an unceremonious “Later, losers,”, pushes Evan’s chair up despite his still sitting in it, and climbs out of the VW. They watch as Connor walks towards school, putting in his earphones.</p><p>“We haven’t sung together since we were kids,” Zoe smiles, reminiscing. Evan’s not sure how to respond to that, so he just nods his head again. They walk to the front doors, and Evan’s heartbeat picks up when Zoe takes his hand. He can’t tell if it’s because he’s holding hands with Zoe or if it’s just because of the physical touch in general. “So,” Zoe chats as they walk, “are we still on for tonight?”</p><p>Tonight. That’s right, Evan has a date with Zoe tonight. With <em>only</em> Zoe, tonight. It’ll be the first time they’ve been alone since Connor had been in the hospital. “Tonight,” Evan nods.</p><p>“Cool, so I’ll pick you up around five-thirty?”</p><p>“Uh, no, no, um, make it six?” His mom leaves for class at five-thirty, and Evan can’t have Zoe running into his mom. He hasn’t told her about Zoe yet.</p><p>Zoe grins. “Six,” she gives him a chaste peck on the cheek and enters the school.</p><p>Evan stands there, momentarily dumbfounded as his cheek burns, until someone calls out behind him.</p><p>“GAAAAAYYYYYYYYY,” Jared yells.</p><p>Evan’s not sure how his female girlfriend kissing him, Evan, a guy, would be considered “gay”. But Evan learned a long time ago to not question Jared’s commentary. It never makes any sense. “Hey, Jared.”</p><p>“Morning, dudette!” Jared throws his arm around Evan’s shoulder and strides into school, dragging Evan along and nearly choking him in the process. “So how was your date last night?”</p><p>“Date?”</p><p>“Yeah, with dude Zoe.”</p><p>Evan shoves Jared’s arm off of him as they approach their lockers. “He has a name. And it wasn’t a date,” Evan feels that this needs to be clarified. Jared only rolls his eyes. “It was fine. We had dinner. I taught him stuff. He left. The end.”</p><p>Jared’s eyebrows raise comically high. “You <em>taught</em> him stuff? Kinky!”</p><p>Evan ignores him. “What did you do last night?”</p><p>“Moi? Well, I spent my evening at the gym.” Jared closes his locker with a slam.</p><p>Evan flinches at the noise, then looks Jared up and down. That had to be a joke, right? As far as Evan knows, Jared hates working out. “You went to the <em>gym</em>? Very funny.”</p><p>“Nothing funny about it, my dear friend. In fact, it was quite… educational.”</p><p>“Educational?”</p><p>“Have you ever <em>seen</em> a woman running on a treadmill?” Jared mimics a certain part of the female anatomy bouncing obscenely.</p><p>“Stop that.”</p><p>“You ought to take Zoe to the gym,” Jared nudges Evan, and his boney elbow is sure to leave a bruise on Evan’s ribs.</p><p>Evan closes his locker carefully, without slamming, and walks off to his first class.</p><p>“See you later, amigo!” Jared calls after him. Evan keeps his head down, wondering, perhaps for the zillionth time, why he hangs out with Jared.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Second Date</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>"It Came A Samba Midnight Clear" doesn't actually have a guitar solo in it, but it has such an incredible pun in its title that I could NOT pass up putting it in my story. I'm a sucker for puns and bad jokes. Maybe that's why I love Jared so much! Also, Zoe talks a lot when she's nervous.</p><p>There are no chapter warnings this time! Whoa! Unless you have an aversion to Christmas-y dates and fluff. Then you're screwed, Scrooge.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ice skating.</p><p>She wants to take him <em>ice skating</em>.</p><p>Of course, they’d arranged all the details earlier in the week, but it’s not really until Evan is sitting on his driveway, waiting for Zoe to pick him up, that it hits him that they’re going <em>ice skating</em>. What was he thinking? Evan can barely walk without falling over, and now he’s going to put blades on his feet and try to glide? Ha.</p><p>It’s December in New York, and despite the fact that it’s 40° Fahrenheit outside, Evan is sweating. Maybe it’s not too late to cancel? Zoe would be disappointed, no doubt, but at least Evan’s dignity and sanity might remain intact for a few more days.</p><p>The thought of cancelling his date with Zoe is almost more nerve-wracking than actually going on the date itself, because Evan is terrible at saying “no” and hates to upset people.</p><p>Evan pulls out his phone and opens his solitaire app to distract himself. No, he’s going to do this. He’s going to go on a date with Zoe Murphy, just the two of them, even if it kills him. He’s wanted this since sophomore year.</p><p>After a few rounds of solitaire, a pair of headlights blinds Evan as Zoe pulls into his driveway. Evan stands up stiffly (he’s only been outside for about ten minutes and he’s already a popsicle) and shuffles over to the VW. He clambers into the small, toasty car and Zoe greets him with a peppy smile, like always. As he buckles himself in, she fiddles with her car stereo.</p><p>“What do you want to listen to?”</p><p>“Oh, um, anything. Really, I don’t mind.”</p><p>Zoe pops in a CD and The Beach Boys start singing about Christmas in Hawaii. <em>Well</em>, Evan thinks, <em>at least it’s Christmas music</em>. Zoe sings along, and Evan taps his fingers with the rhythm. Evan looks out the window, because he’s not sure what else to do, but he can’t see much. It’s already almost pitch-black out, the sun having gone down about an hour ago.</p><p>He clears his throat as the first song comes to an end. “So, how was, um, jazz band?”</p><p>Zoe gives a small shrug. “Ehh, it was okay. Normally we have a lot of fun, but since the holiday show is coming up, Mrs. Burns is really drilling us. She totally chewed out Matt, he plays the trombone. Well, he kind of deserved it, though. He wasn’t keeping up with the tempo. You’re coming, right? To the holiday show?”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah. Definitely.” He’d be going with Mr. and Mrs. Murphy, and Alana would meet them there. Connor and Jared had downright refused.</p><p>“Great! I’ve got a guitar solo during ‘It Came A Samba Midnight Clear’…” Zoe continues to regale him with Tales From The Jazz Band Room, talking about music stuff and using vernacular that Evan doesn’t entirely understand, but he’s grateful that Zoe is filling up the silence.</p><p>When she’s finished, she decides she’s talked enough about herself and wants to learn more about Evan. “You hardly ever talk about yourself. I feel like I hardly know you! So tell me about the mysterious Evan. What do you like? What do you hate? What makes you tick? How do you feel about prunes? If you were stranded on an island, what three things would you want to bring with you?”</p><p>Evan laughs at her strange questions. “Prunes? Well, they’re alright, I guess. I don’t really know? I’ve only ever had prunes when they’re in a fruit cake.”</p><p>“I can’t stand prunes. Why would you ruin a perfectly good plum? Well, like I said, enough about me. What else?”</p><p>Evan thinks. “The island… I guess I would take, like, drinking water… canned food, and a book about building a raft?”</p><p>Zoe snorts. “Oh come on! That’s so responsible!” Evan shrugs. “Okay, well then what are some things that you like?”</p><p>“Um, I don’t know… pancakes? I mean, my mom makes these walnut pancakes, and we put chopped bananas and maple syrup on top and they’re just the best…” Evan fades off, but Zoe urges him on. “Well, I like old movies and tv shows. But only really because my mom does. She introduces me to all these shows and things she watched when she was a kid.”</p><p>“Ah, so you’re an old soul.”</p><p>“Ha, yeah I mean I guess. Uh… I’m not really sure there’s anything else. I mean, I like stuff. But I don’t think there’s anything I’m really passionate about, like you with jazz band. Unless you count trees,” Evan says offhandedly.</p><p>“Trees?” Zoe glances at him.</p><p>“Well, yeah, trees. It’s kind of weird, I know, but I just really like them.”</p><p>Zoe lets out a little laugh, which makes Evan feel self-conscious about revealing his feelings. “No, I’m sorry. Just, explain this to me. Why do you like trees?”</p><p>Evan swallows a wad of saliva that’s worked its way into his mouth. “Well, um. They’re nice, I guess. They’re pretty. All of them are different, no two in the world are the same. Like snowflakes, you know? Unique. And yet they all provide the same oxygen. They all have leaves that fall off in the fall. They all grow new leaves in the spring. And the bigger and older they are, the more incredible they are. And they’re just… always there, you know? Like, nothing can be going right in the world, and your life is a mess, but you can always rely on the trees. They’re always there, giving us oxygen to breathe. It’s comforting, I guess.”</p><p>Zoe’s eyebrows are furrowed in trying to understand. “Okay, I guess. But, like, shrubs do the same thing? And flowers? So why trees?”</p><p>“Well, I mean, I like shrubs and flowers, too. I don’t know. I guess I like all of nature. It doesn’t just have to be trees…” Evan concedes. Clearly Zoe doesn’t really understand.</p><p>“Right…” They’re conversation comes to an awkward lull, but luckily they’re only a few minutes away from their destination.</p><p>They pull into Rochester’s Holiday Village, and Evan is instantly enchanted by all the beautiful, soft lights. Every shop is decorated with painted windows, faux icicles, decorated Christmas trees, and white string lights crisscrossing all over and in between each pop-up structure, lighting a warm path from the parking lot to the middle of the village. As soon as Evan steps out of the car, the frosty air bites his nose and ears, but he can hear distant laughing and chattering, carolers singing, and he can smell fresh baked goods. Zoe grabs his gloved hand and starts running towards the festivities.</p><p>They stop and peek into each store front to see what they’re selling, making mental notes about which shops to come back to. They pass by children playing hide and seek in the man-made ice igloos as the parents watch fondly. They walked past the sleigh where Santa and Mrs. Claus will make their appearance later in the evening to talk to all the good little girls and boys. Evan spots a small stand selling hot chocolate and peppermint and marshmallow sweets, and he licks his lips reflexively. Then Zoe tugs on his arm, shouting and pointing at the large, open-air ice rink in front of them, with an enormously tall Christmas tree on the opposite end of the rink. There’s already a good bunch of people on the ice, and Zoe leads them over to the skate rental stand.</p><p>Evan has gone ice-skating maybe once in his life, when he was, like, six. So Zoe shows him how to lace up his skates good and tight so that he won’t get blisters, and then all too quickly she’s guiding him out onto the ice. There’s no railing around the rink, so Evan holds onto Zoe for dear life. He wobbles his way around, slipping and sliding as his feet seem to keep turning inwards. Zoe, on the other hand, seems almost at home on the ice. She’s skating backwards, holding Evan’s hands and steering him forward slowly. She giggles as a few kids whiz past them like pros.</p><p>“I haven’t done this for a long t-time,” Evan says, almost slipping as he tears his concentration away from his feet to look at Zoe. She’s smiling at him with the brightest smile, like she couldn’t be happier taking things slow and showing Evan the ropes.</p><p>“Don’t worry. By the end of the night, you might just be able to make it around the rink without me,” she winks. Evan snorts.</p><p>“Shuddup.”</p><p>Zoe laughs loudly, throwing her head back and yet still managing to stay steady on her feet.</p><p>“How-how-how are you doing this? It’s impossible!”</p><p>“Practice, Hansen.”</p><p>Evan huffs. “You wanted to go ice skating just so you could make a fool of me, didn’t you?”</p><p>Zoe’s eyes crinkle as she laughs again. “Maybe,” she says coyly.</p><p>Evan looks up from his feet again to look around. “Hey. Hey! We’re halfway around already!”</p><p>“You know, it’s actually a lot easier to skate if you <em>aren’t</em> staring at your toes,” Zoe advises.</p><p>Evan shakes his head quickly, then stops as he becomes unbalanced. “Ohhh no. That’s too scary.”</p><p>Zoe giggles again. “Come on, Ev. Look at me. Keep your eyes on me.”</p><p>Evan slowly lifts his head to look at her, but his eyes keep darting downward. “I can’t. I literally can’t,” he laughs.</p><p>Zoe stops suddenly but pulls Evan towards her. She swoops in for a kiss, which surprises Evan, obviously, and it’s over so quick that Evan barely has time to register it. When she pulls away, Evan is wide-eyed, open-mouthed, and shocked expression is comical. She laughs at him again. “Do you think you can skate without me pulling you?” She slides to his side and takes his hand. “Come on, you can do it!”</p><p>Evan smiles meekly and tries to propel himself forward. Nothing happens. He looks at his feet and wills himself to move forward. He tries sliding his skates back and forth on the ice, which only proves to make him unbalanced again. Zoe holds him steady. “You have to pick your feet up and kind of slide them sideways, like this. It’s kind of like walking.” Zoe lets go and moves forward a bit, showing Evan how to push off. She stops about five feet from him. “Give it a try.”</p><p>Evan gasps. “On my own?”</p><p>Zoe nods. Evan blinks rapidly. He knows what he’s supposed to do, but dear god almighty it seems like too much to ask Evan to pick his feet up. Evan can hardly keep his balance with both feet on the ice! What is he going to do when he’s only got one foot down at a time? He shuts his eyes tight, shakes his head, and pushes off without thinking too much about it. So of course, in his dread of not going anywhere, he pushes too hard and goes careening into Zoe.</p><p>“Whoa-whoa!” Zoe shouts and tries to stop him, but she’s standing by the lip of the rink, and when Evan blasts into her, she flies backwards, tripping over the edge and bringing Evan down with her.</p><p>“Gahhh!” Evan shuts his eyes again as he hits the ground, hard. “Ow.” He opens his eyes to see Zoe beside him, shaking. Oh no. Oh <em>no</em>. “Zoe? Zoe, I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Zoe?”</p><p>She turns over and he sees her face, and she’s laughing!</p><p>“Wha-why are you laughing? We could’ve died!”</p><p>Zoe bursts into peels of laughter again, nearly crying now. “We-we could’ve d-died? Evan,” she stops to regain control of her laughter, but she looks at him again and it starts all over again.</p><p>Watching Zoe laugh makes Evan start to smile, and pretty soon he’s laughing too. He’s not really sure why; maybe it’s contagious. He doesn’t even particularly care that the people skating past them are looking at them strangely and whispering. After a minute, they manage to compose themselves. Zoe stands and steps back onto the ice. “Care for another try?” She asks and holds out her hand.</p><p>Evan beams up at her and, feeling a strange kind of confidence wash over him, lets himself be pulled up and dragged back into the rink. They manage to make it around the rink a couple times with Evan only falling twice (not counting all the times he nearly fell but Zoe caught him). By the end of their third lap, Evan feels confident enough to skate without Zoe’s support. Of course, she stays right next to his elbow just in case he takes a nosedive. Which he doesn’t, thank god.</p><p>After six laps, they decide to take a break. Evan’s ankles are starting to get sore, and both Evan and Zoe can’t feel their smaller extremities. They return the skates and Evan points out the hot chocolate stand he saw earlier. Zoe finds them a bench while Evan orders two hot chocolates, both with whipped cream and cinnamon. He also purchases a bag of warm, buttery popcorn, and joins Zoe on the bench. They sip and watch the ice skaters, quietly laughing behind their cups whenever someone takes a particularly nasty fall. Behind them, next to Santa’s sleigh, a small group of carolers sings “That’s Christmas To Me”, and Zoe slips her ungloved hand into Evan’s. It sends a small chill up Evan’s spine. Of course, they’d been holding hands practically all night already, but they’d had their gloves on then. Now it was just cold skin on cold skin. Evan looks at their joined hands and back up at Zoe, who smiles at him endearingly. “I’m having a lot of fun,” she says shyly, and Evan can’t help but agree. He almost wishes he could be here with…</p><p>With who? With someone he loves. Or someone who loves him. So, Zoe, Evan guesses. Except that doesn’t quiet seem right. His mom? No. This is more of a romantic outing. So it must be Zoe.</p><p>As they finish their drinks and snack, Zoe threads her fingers with Evan’s and squeezes lightly. He’s not sure what the squeezing is about, but he gives her a small squeeze back. “Are you excited for Christmas?”</p><p>“Yeah. I guess. My mom will be working. But that’s okay I guess. We’ll get to celebrate together on Christmas Eve, so there’s that.”</p><p>“That’s gotta be tough.”</p><p>“Yeah. But I’m used to it. I don’t think we’ve spent Christmas day together since my dad… since he left. She’s always had to work.”</p><p>Zoe doesn’t speak for a moment. “Do you see your dad? During the holidays?”</p><p>Evan breathes in deeply. “No. I don’t see him. Ever.”</p><p>Zoe squeezes his hand again. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”</p><p>Evan shakes his head. “It’s fine. What about you? Excited for Christmas?”</p><p>“Oh, well of course. But I think I actually like Christmas Eve better than Christmas. Every year, we go to my grandma’s house for turkey and pudding. My cousins, aunt and uncles, great aunts and uncles, second cousins, we all come together on Christmas Eve. After dinner, we eat too many sweets and tell the little kids stories about Santa. Or sometimes we’ll watch those classic Christmas movies. You know, like Jack Frost and Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer? When we get home, we get to open one present beneath the tree – the ornament. Every year, Mom and Dad give Connor and me a new ornament that kind of represents something big we did that year, or something that we’re really into. Then we put the new ornaments on the tree, start a fire in the fireplace and hang up stockings, and we turn off all the lights in the house except for the lights on the tree. We usually sit up pretty late just watching the embers and listening to Christmas music. Sometimes, when we were kids, Connor and I wouldn’t even go to bed. I’d sneak into his room and we’d stay up all night watching movies and waiting for Santa to come.”</p><p>“Did you ever catch him?”</p><p>“Who?”</p><p>“Santa!”</p><p>Zoe laughs. “Oh, no. Our parents were very sneaky.”</p><p>Evan smiles. “That sounds like a perfect Christmas.”</p><p>“It kind of is,” she nods. “But the past couple of years, usually Connor sulks in the corner throughout dinner and then locks himself in his room when we get home. It feels kind of lonely without him. Like… like part of Christmas is missing because I don’t spend time with him.”</p><p>Evan’s not sure what to say. His Christmas’ have always been lonely, even when his dad was around. He remembers one Christmas in particular. He asked Santa for only one thing: for his parents to get along for just one day. Just one Christmas.</p><p>Needless to say, he stopped believing in Santa Claus after that Christmas. And he stopped believing in his dad two months later.</p><p>Evan clears his throat and suggests they check out the shops. Zoe agrees. They spend the better part of an hour meandering throughout the village. Evan doesn’t buy anything, but he likes looking at all the sweets and hand-crafted goods that are being sold. They pass by a small woman standing next to a red mailbox with the words “Santa’s Mailbox” painted on the side. “Would you like to send your Christmas wishes to Santa, dears?”</p><p>Evan is about to politely decline when Zoe exclaims, “Sure!” Evan looks at her disbelievingly. “Oh, come on, Evan. It’ll be fun!”</p><p>He doesn’t argue when Zoe hands him a small piece of paper and one of those tiny pencils that come with score-keeping board games. Zoe begins scribbling on her paper while Evan stares at his blank piece. <em>I wish…</em> he writes. For what? Peace on Earth? Good will toward men? He’s not sure. He doesn’t particularly wish for anything. Not that there’s nothing that he wants. There’s plenty of things he wants. Like to feel normal, for a change. But writing on a piece of paper and sending it to an imaginary man isn’t going to solve his problems. What’s the point?</p><p>“Got yours, Evan?”</p><p>“Hm? Yeah, uh, yeah.” Evan folds his unfinished wish and slips it into the mailbox. As they walk away, Zoe asks what he wished for. He smiles for Zoe’s sake. “If I told you that, it wouldn’t come true.” She laughs and pulls him to the side.</p><p>“You wanna know what I wished for?” She looks at him through her lashes. Evan gulps.</p><p>“Wh-what did you wish for?”</p><p>She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him down a bit. “A kiss.” Evan gulps again.</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>He closes his eyes as Zoe leans toward him. She gives him a slow, soft kiss. Nothing obscene, but not too innocent either. And it’s nice, sure. Pleasurable, Evan would say. He doesn’t hate it.</p><p>Except that he kind of does.</p><p>So he pulls away but returns Zoe’s flirty smile, not wanting to hurt her feelings. Is it his fault? He doesn’t give it much thought, because then Zoe hooks her arm into his and they stroll through the village, back to Zoe’s car.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Christmas</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello! It's been almost a month since I last posted, and as soon as final exams were over, I turned my attention to finishing this chapter! I wanted to have it done on Christmas Eve, but I suppose Christmas evening also works.</p><p>A little disclaimer - I am agnostic, but my family celebrates Christmas. I talk a little bit about Hanukkah in this chapter because Jared is Jewish, but as I haven't been raised Jewish, nor was I taught a lot about Jewish culture in school, I might not have all the facts right. I did my research and tried to keep it as simple as possible so as to not totally eff up, but if you see something that's not quite right please let me know in the comments!</p><p>Also, I really wanted to include Alana in this chapter, but when I read it back, I realized that she really didn't really play a part in this section. So I took her out - she's probably celebrating the season with her own family anyways. I always just want to write about Evan and Connor, since the story is pretty much entirely about them, but I know in order to have a truly well-rounded story you have to include other characters. I'm struggling on that front. I'm hoping to do a chapter each that focuses on Jared and Alana so that we can get to know them a bit better and figure out their roles in this story, so you might see that in the future!</p><p>No chapter warnings today! I hope you're having a lovely winter season and staying safe while celebrating your respective holidays! I had Christmas lunch with my parents, siblings, and grandma via Zoom, so that was quite nice. Any other year, I would have spent the day at my grandma's house with almost the entirety of my extended family; I'm hoping that next year I will get to spend time with everyone again! Until then, we'll just have to see each other's faces on a screen. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Can we put on some music or something? I can’t stand the silence,” Connor says irritably, tapping his pencil.</p><p>“I mean, yeah. It’s your house.”</p><p>Connor stands and fishes his phone from his pocket. “What do you want to listen to?” Connor asks as he hooks up his phone to the stereo.</p><p>Evan leans in, resting his chin on his hand and chewing on a bit of skin on his finger. He’s anxious, but when is he not anxious at the Murphy household? When is he not anxious anywhere outside of his bedroom?</p><p>Today’s study session is being held in the Murphy’s dining room because Mrs. Murphy invited Evan for dinner and dessert to thank him for helping Connor.</p><p>Speaking of, Mrs. Murphy steps into the room, checking on them for the second time that hour. “How’s it going?”</p><p>“Fine, Cynthia,” Connor huffs.</p><p>If being called by her first name by her son bothers her, Mrs. Murphy doesn’t show it. She smiles widely and asks Evan, “Do you need any snacks? Something to drink? Dinner won’t be for a while yet.” Evan smiles and shakes his head, politely declining. “Okay, well, just holler if you need anything.”</p><p>Connor watches her leave, making sure she’s out of earshot before declaring, “From now on, we study at your house.” Connor presses a button and The Head and the Heart begins to play.</p><p>“I think it’s nice.”</p><p>Connor rolls his eyes and sits back down. “It’s <em>annoying</em>.”</p><p>Evan decides not to respond. He doesn’t tell Connor how lucky he is to have a mom that’s around to just be <em>Mom</em>, or a dad who stuck it out. He doesn’t know how lucky he is to have grown up in a two-parent household and have dinner as a family every night. Evan doesn’t tell Connor that he’d give anything to have what Connor has. And sure, maybe Connor’s family isn’t perfect. But at least they have each other, and they have the potential to grow together. Evan’s dad decided to leave and grow with someone else, probably because Evan wasn’t good enough to change for. But these are Evan’s deepest fears, so he doesn’t say them out loud. Saying them out loud would make them too real.</p><p>Connor groans, pulling Evan out of his reverie. “Can we stop? We’ve been at this for an hour. Let’s do something else.”</p><p>Evan sits back in his chair. “What do you want to do?”</p><p>“I dunno.” Connor looks out the window for a moment. “Tell me about yourself. We’re best friends, but I don’t know anything about you.”</p><p>Evan blinks. “You actually want to… know me?” He didn’t mean for it to sound quite as pathetic as it did.</p><p>“It’s got to be more interesting than math.”</p><p>Evan’s not sure how true that could be – he’s a pretty boring person, he thinks. But if Connor wants to know about him, then Evan guesses it can’t hurt. “There’s not much to tell, I don’t think. What do you want to know?”</p><p>Connor leans in, coming closer and scrutinizing Evan. “Let’s start simple. What’s your favorite color?”</p><p>“Huh. Um, green, I guess. Or maybe blue.”</p><p>“No, you have to choose one,” Connor says seriously.</p><p>Evan smiles, “Okay, then, green.”</p><p>Connor nods. “I’ll be right back,” he stands and darts out of the room.</p><p>Evan is slightly perplexed but doesn’t have much time to dwell on it because Mr. Murphy walks through the room holding an iPad with a stilled video. “Hi, Mr. Murphy. How’s it going?”</p><p>Mr. Murphy startles, like he hadn’t realized Evan was in his house. “Fine, fine. What are you up to?”</p><p>“Studying. With Connor. He just left to… um, he just left. What are you watching? On your tablet?”</p><p>Mr. Murphy looks down at the device in his hand. “Baseball.”</p><p>“You like baseball?” Evan’s not great at small talk, but he’d like to try to get on Mr. Murphy’s good side. Not that he thinks he’s on Mr. Murphy’s bad side. Evan doesn’t think he’s on either of Mr. Murphy’s sides. He’s probably not even on Mr. Murphy’s radar.</p><p>“Yeah, you play?”</p><p>“Oh, no. I, uh… never learned.”</p><p>“What, your dad never played catch with you?”</p><p>Evan looks at his hands in his lap. “No.”</p><p>Mr. Murphy makes a sound of disapproval. “Connor never wanted to play, either. I got him this great glove one year, when he was a kid, same one as Joltin’ Joe, but he never even took the tag off.” Mr. Murphy shakes his head. “It’s in the garage, collecting dust.”</p><p>When Evan looks back at this moment later, he realizes that it was not his job to comfort Mr. Murphy. But at the time, Evan feels so guilty about how Mr. Murphy is feeling, even though he <em>knows</em> he’s not the cause of Mr. Murphy’s bane, that he offers Mr. Murphy some solace just to get out of this uncomfortable conversation. Of course, his offer then leads him to a different problem. “You could… you could teach me? If you wanted. I mean, I’m-sure-you’re-busy-I-don’t-even-know-why-I-suggested-it-”</p><p>“Yeah. That’d be nice sometime.”</p><p>Evan gulps. He just made an offer to hang out with Mr. Murphy. Presumably alone. What would they talk about? “Okay, yeah. Sometime.”</p><p>Mr. Murphy nods, and they enter an awkward limbo of silence. Evan looks at his hands, and Mr. Murphy clears his throat. “Well, I –”</p><p>“I-I’m sure he’ll –”</p><p>“I’m back!” Connor yells as he steps into the room, smiling triumphantly at Evan. Upon noticing his father, Connor’s smile falls. “<em>What</em>?”</p><p>Mr. Murphy squints his eyes. “Are you – are you painting Evan’s nails,” Mr. Murphy asks, nodding to the green nail polish in Connor’s hand.</p><p>“Yeah, so?” Connor challenges him.</p><p>“Nothing. I’m just leaving,” Mr. Murphy turns and exits.</p><p>Connor huffs and sits down across from Evan, glaring at the spot where Mr. Murphy left the room.</p><p>“Um, you’re painting my nails?”</p><p>“Hm? Oh, yeah. If you’ll let me. I thought it… it might be fun. We can take it off right after if you don’t like it.” Connor taps the bottle with his, Evan realizes, chipped black fingernails.</p><p>Evan hesitates. Do guys usually paint their fingernails? Evan thought it was strange at first, but maybe that’s just because Jared doesn’t. Evan’s never really noticed another guys' nails before – he is usually too busy looking at the floor. He’s never seen men with painted nails in movies, but then again Evan really only watches old movies and television. Maybe it’s popular now?</p><p>Sometimes Evan can’t believe how oblivious he is.</p><p>“Sure, I guess.”</p><p>Connor’s face lights up. “Okay, cool. I promise I’ll try to do a good job. I’ve only ever done my own before.” As he paints the first stripe of forest green polish on, he continues asking Evan questions. “Do you have a favorite book?”</p><p>Evan, who’s watching Connor paint with extreme precision, answers slightly distractedly. “Uh… n-no. I don’t think. I don’t really, um, read a – a lot. Only school stuff. But I guess, um… <em>The Great Gatsby</em>? That was interesting, I think.”</p><p>“Ah, yeah. ‘I wasn’t actually in love, but I felt a sort of tender curiosity.’” Connor murmurs quietly.</p><p>Evan’s heart jumps. “Um. Yeah.”</p><p>It’s quiet for a moment as Connor thinks of another question. “If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?” He asks slowly, concentrating on Evan’s tiny pinky.</p><p>Evan thinks. “I guess… Mount Rushmore?”</p><p>Connor pauses from his work to look up at Evan. “You can go <em>anywhere</em>, and you choose Mount Rushmore? Come on, where’s your imagination?” He teases.</p><p>Evan shifts his gaze elsewhere, “I don’t know, I just… I’ve always wanted to see it for some reason. I don’t know why.”</p><p>Connor smirks, and Evan’s cheeks heat up. “Okay, that’s fine, I guess. How about something you’ve always wanted to do but never done?”</p><p>This one is easy. “Go for a ride in a hot air balloon.”</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>Evan rests his head in the hand not currently being held by Connor’s. “It’s like climbing a tree, you know? Seeing the world from above, and things are so much smaller than they are on the ground. It puts things into perspective. Like, why should I worry about something so trivial, you know? Because everything is so small from up here, it’s like my problems don’t even matter.”</p><p>Evan looks up and catches Connor watching him, but Connor quickly resumes painting Evan’s nails. “Okay, this one is gonna sound weird.”</p><p>“That’s okay.”</p><p>Connor nods. “What is your favorite smell?”</p><p>Evan cracks a smile. This one <em>is</em> weird. “I’ve never really thought about it… I guess, like, apples and cinnamon? My mom has this candle she burns sometimes, and I’ve always liked it. But, I also, this is gonna sound kinda dumb, because, like, everybody likes this smell, but after it rains? Like, everything smells so fresh? Um… I can’t think of anything else. What about you?”</p><p>Evan notices Connor poking his tongue between his teeth in concentration and hides his smile when Connor looks at him. “Well, we used to go camping a lot when I was a kid. I hated it. But the smell of the campfire was always nice.”</p><p>Evan nods. He’s never been camping, but he can imagine that a campfire would smell good.</p><p>“I’m done!” Connor finishes with a final swipe of nail polish down Evan’s right pinky. Evan looks at Connor’s handiwork, and his hands seem foreign to himself. Having painted nails is… <em>odd</em>. But Evan doesn’t hate it. And he’s able to admire how well Connor is able to stay within the lines, so to speak, and not get any paint on Evan’s skin. Evan says that they look really nice, and Connor tries to not show how happy Evan’s compliment makes him.</p><p>They chat for a while longer, waiting for Evan’s nails to dry. Connor keeps asking him questions (“If you had a pet dragon, what would you name it?” “Pancakes or waffles?” “Who’s your favorite actor, and what’s your favorite movie they’ve been in?”) until Zoe gets home from jazz band practice.</p><p>“I’m hoooome!” Zoe bounces into the kitchen. “Wha… are you painting my boyfriend’s fingernails?”</p><p>Connor doesn’t back down from the challenge. “Yeah. So what?”</p><p>Zoe just rolls her eyes. “Weird,” she mumbles, and then grabs Evan’s hand. “Let’s go hang out in my room!” The invitation clearly doesn’t extend to Connor.</p><p>Evan glances at Connor, who pointedly looks away. “Okay.” Zoe pulls him up and leads him to the stairwell. Evan realizes later that his nail polish got smudged when Zoe took his hand, and he can’t help but feel a little disappointed.</p><p>–</p><p>Life continues this way for a while.</p><p>Evan continues tutoring Connor. Connor shows up on Evan’s doorstep every Tuesday and Thursday, increasingly on time, with dinner and alcoholic drinks (but he always brings two sarsaparillas for Evan), they spend some time talking while they eat, and then Connor manages to make himself concentrate for an hour while Evan does his best to help him.</p><p>Pretty soon it’s winter break, and Evan spends nearly all his time at the Murphy’s, whenever his mom is at work. Connor is often shut away in his room or off who knows where, but Evan enjoys spending time with Zoe, as long as she’s not being too flirty, and Mrs. Murphy. Sometimes, even Mr. Murphy will join them to play a board game or watch a movie, but more often than not he’s in his armchair reading the next novel he’s snuck out of Connor’s room. Evan sometimes wonders why he’s still reading so much if Connor is now out of the hospital and seems to be doing… well, fine, he guesses. Sure, Connor has become more receptive to Evan’s lessons, but Evan hasn’t seen too much of a change in his attitude, besides the fact that he’s become a bit more considerate towards Evan. Connor displays none of that sensitivity at home though. Evan’s witnessed more fights between him and Mr. Murphy than he’d care to count, and Connor is always the instigator.</p><p>Evan spends Christmas Eve with his mom. They exchange gifts – Evan gives his mom a fancy fountain pen to write with on homework assignments or to pen out prescriptions for patients; he’s been saving up for months because he knows his mom deserves something nice. She’s shocked and thrilled, and she hugs Evan for a solid two minutes after opening the present. Evan receives a very nice maroon button-down shirt and an encyclopedia of trees, which Evan gets unabashedly excited about. Heidi grins broadly as Evan thanks his mother. They spend the evening like they do every Christmas Eve: eating way too much chocolate pudding and watching <em>Miracle On 34<sup>th</sup> Street</em> (Heidi’s favorite Christmas film) and <em>It’s A Wonderful Life</em> (Evan’s favorite).</p><p>On Christmas morning, Heidi wakes Evan up before she leaves for work. They have Christmas breakfast together, at five A.M. – chocolate chip pancakes with whipped cream and cinnamon. At ten o’clock, Evan is dressed in his new maroon shirt and being welcoming into the Murphy’s living room. “Come in, come in, out of the cold!” Mrs. Murphy takes Evan’s coat and hands him a hot chocolate, complete with a pile of marshmallows. “I thought for sure it would be snowing by now, it’s so cold out there!”</p><p>When Evan steps into the house, he’s greeted by warm air and a smell. A smell that’s so heavenly he thinks he might be dreaming. A smell that’s a mixture of oven-hot, glazed ham, buttery potatoes, honeyed parsnips, and gingerbread. Evan doesn’t think he’s ever smelled anything so good before. He takes a sip of his hot chocolate and shivers as the hot liquid brings warmth to his frost-bitten body.</p><p>“Everyone is in the family room, come along,” Mrs. Murphy guides him into the next room where Mr. Murphy, Zoe, Connor, and Jared are sitting, and Bobby Helms is singing “Jingle Bell Rock” on the stereo. Mr. Murphy is seated uncomfortably in his reclining chair, as though he wasn’t quiet looking forward to spending his holiday with four teenagers. Jared has planted himself on the floor between the Christmas tree and the coffee table. Zoe and Connor are sitting on the couch, Zoe sitting up and Connor sprawled out, his long limbs hanging off the sides of the sofa. When they see him, Zoe and Jared shout “Evan!”, like Evan is a character on <em>Cheers</em>. Connor just gives him a small nod. Evan beams at them all from behind his mug of hot chocolate and decides to take the seat between Connor and Zoe. Zoe takes his hand almost immediately, wrapping her fingers around his and sending a small chill up Evan’s spine. Mr. Murphy catches the interaction, and Evan just smiles a little guiltily at him, avoiding direct eye contact.</p><p>Evan takes a look around the room. In true Mrs. Murphy fashion, she’s outdone herself with both Christmas and Hanukkah decorations. Evan can’t help but feel a rush of gratitude towards Mrs. Murphy for going out of her way to include Jared’s religious celebration, even if Jared isn’t massively religious. Evan knows Jared would have been happy just celebrating Christmas with everyone, so the fact that Mrs. Murphy went the extra mile just shows how much she cares.</p><p>There’s a large, golden menorah sitting in the living room window with nine unlit candles, as well as a light-up Star of David hanging on each side of the window. Blue and gold bunting encircles the room on the walls with small dreidels and stars printed on. Along with these accommodations, Mrs. Murphy has also decked the room with garland and tinsel, and the Christmas tree is decorated with lights and some classy-looking ornaments that all seem to match with one another.</p><p>A distinct <em>ding!</em> comes from the kitchen, and Mrs. Murphy mumbles, “Oh, the sufganiyot!”</p><p>Evan furrows his eyebrows at the unfamiliar word, but Jared perks up. “Wait, you <em>made</em> sufganiyot? Like, actually made it?”</p><p>Mrs. Murphy calls from the kitchen, “Yes! I hope it tastes alright. I got the recipe from Better Homes and Gardens!” She reenters the room a few minutes later with a plate of what seem to be miniature jelly donuts.</p><p>“They’re like jelly donuts!” Jared explains enthusiastically, and Evan almost chokes. “What did you fill them with?” Jared picks one up, powdered sugar falling onto his shirt and pants as he stuffs it in his mouth.</p><p>“Strawberry jam. That’s what traditionally goes in them, right?”</p><p>Jared’s eyes roll into the back of his head as he hums his approval. “<em>Fo guhd</em>,” he mumbles through a mouth full of dough. Mrs. Murphy beams.</p><p>“Alright, everyone, gather around the coffee table!” Mrs. Murphy grabs a bowl of munchy food to place on the table. Evan peeks inside and sees pretzels shaped into the Star of David. “This is a time of year to celebrate acceptance and love of all people, no matter their ethnicity, gender, or religion.” She pauses, and Evan thinks briefly that she might have forgotten to mention a few categories of types of people. Like creed. Or sexuality. “I’m ashamed to say that I don’t know a lot about Jewish faith. Jared?” Jared looks up, his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk foraging for nuts. “Would you mind telling us about your religion?”</p><p>Jared takes a massive gulp that looks like it might have been painful. He coughs. “Well yeah, I guess. I mean, I just kind of grew up Jewish, so I might not have everything right or know everything. But basically, in December we celebrate Hanukkah,” he pauses and gestures around the room as if to say <em>obviously</em>, “and it’s a celebration of kicking the Syrians out of Jerusalem, basically.”</p><p>Mrs. Murphy lets out a small <em>ah</em>, like she hadn’t realized the history behind Hanukkah would be violent.</p><p>Jared shrugs. “It’s something like the king of Syria oppressed Judaism and forced everyone to worship Greek gods instead. So Mattathias, this Jewish priest? He led this rebellion against the Syrian king and won, and to celebrate they lit a menorah that was supposed to stay lit for, like, a long time. But they didn’t have enough oil to keep it burning, so that’s when the Hanukkah ‘miracle’ happened, which is basically just that the candles kept burning for eight days. So that’s why Hanukkah is eight days, and it’s also called the Festival of Lights.”</p><p>Jared’s speech earns a resounding <em>hm</em> from Mr. Murphy and verbal gratitude from Mrs. Murphy. It's then that Evan realizes, for having known Jared so long, Evan hasn't really taken the time to understand Jared’s cultural heritage. And he couldn’t really blame the school system for lacking in Jewish cultural teachings, since despite the constitutional laws put in place to separate church from state, America’s school system is still pretty ridiculously Christianized.</p><p>But Jared doesn't really talk about his heritage much. Then again, Evan never asks.</p><p>“So before dinner, I’d like, if you’d be willing to teach us, to play dreidel?” Mrs. Murphy pulls out a wooden dreidel and places it in the middle of the coffee table.</p><p>Jared’s eyes widen. “Oh, sweet. I haven’t played since I was a kid!” He immediately begins explaining the rules, telling the group about what the symbols painted on the sides of the dreidel mean and divvying out the pretzels as ante.</p><p>They play a few rounds, with Jared winning the first time, Connor the second, and Mr. Murphy third. At noon, lunch is ready, and Mrs. Murphy calls everyone into the dining room. Which is, like, so incredibly decorated.</p><p>The table seems longer than usual, and Evan wonders if Mrs. Murphy has one of those extendable tables with leaves. The white tablecloth with a red runner makes the centerpiece pop out – it’s a rather elegant gold pillar candle surrounded by garland and sprigs of holly. Each place setting looks like it’s meant for a king; plates, bowls, strangely shaped cups and differently sized utensils are placed in seeming order in front of each chair, and everyone has a Christmas popper at their seats. Evan doesn’t really know much about decorations or interior design, but he’s pretty sure he’s just stepped into a Currier &amp; Ives painting.</p><p>Evan spots the glazed ham, potatoes and parsnips, and gingerbread that he smelled when he walked into the house. There’s also buttered peas, green bean casserole, crispy latkes, honeyed Challah buns, roasted brussel sprouts, and baked kugel. Evan feels nearly full from just looking at all the wonderfully prepared food, wondering vaguely how they’d eat all of it.</p><p>They all sit down and say grace, led by Zoe, and Jared makes a remark about having to hold Connor’s hand, so Evan kicks him under the table.</p><p>“Merry Christmas!” Mrs. Murphy raises her glass of champagne.</p><p>“Happy Hanukkah!” Jared joins.</p><p>“And Kwanzaa!” Zoe adds.</p><p>Dinner goes off without a hitch (apart from Connor’s mumbled comment about not knowing which fork to stab himself with, causing Evan to snort and his soda to come out of his nose). After lunch and dessert, they return to the living room to play board games. Evan offers to do the dishes, but Mrs. Murphy flat out refuses, insisting that Evan is a guest.</p><p>When Evan gets home a couple hours later, full and sleepy, he drops onto the couch and turns on the tv, which happens to be playing “Frosty the Snowman”. Before he’s lulled to sleep by Santa’s calm voice, Evan thinks that this may have been the best Christmas he’s ever had.</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Connor's Advice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My brother has this philosophy: It’s never too cold for ice cream. Seeing as we live in California, it really is never too cold for ice cream. Living in New York is probably a whole different story, but whatever. I thought getting ice cream would be a cute thing for our boys to do.</p><p>Chapter warnings: underage drinking, swearing, panic attack, talking about therapy and medication, teEnAge ANgsT (and general cringe-ness)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s the second Tuesday of January, and when Evan opens his front door his jaw nearly drops. Connor merely pushes past him, into the house and through to the kitchen, where he deposits a paper bag on the kitchen table and his backpack on the floor. Evan remains at the front door for a moment before closing it slowly and following Connor into the kitchen.</p><p>“Whose car is that?” Evan asks, referring to the old beat-up mustang sitting outside of his house.</p><p>Connor opens the bag and starts pulling out paper wrapped food. “Mine.”</p><p>“Yours? But, you don’t have a car.”</p><p>“Yeah I do. It’s in your driveway.”</p><p>“But… you’ve never had a car.”</p><p>“I’ve had that car since I was sixteen.”</p><p>“But, you don’t drive.”</p><p>Connor sighs. “Yes, I do. Larry and Cynthia took away my car when I got out of the hospital, but now they’re starting to let me drive it again.”</p><p>Evan just stares at him.</p><p>“It’s still not totally mine. There’re rules. I have to ask before I can take it out, and I have to return the keys when I get home, but I’m driving again.” Connor smiles faintly. “I’m driving again,” he repeats, almost euphoric.</p><p>“Oh,” is all Evan manages. He sits down and grabs a parcel of food. Burgers from Village Coal Tower.</p><p>They eat, with Connor talking a bit about his car. About how he bought it with his own money right after he got his license, how he had to work two summers until he paid it off, how his parents bought Zoe her car but Connor didn’t want to owe them anything. Evan doesn’t say much, mostly listens.</p><p>At some point during their conversation, Evan asks if he can try a sip of Connor’s drink. He’s curious. He’s been curious since the first time Connor brought alcohol, but his mom’s warnings about alcohol kept nudging Evan to decline. Connor obliges, of course. Evan touches Connor’s bottle to his lips and takes a sip, instantly coughing. He hadn’t expected beer to be so… strong? Evan’s eyes are stinging and he rubs his nose.</p><p>“You alright?”</p><p>“Fantastic,” Evan croaks, taking another sip to get the frog out of his throat, only realizing too late that he is still holding the lager. Evan splutters again, “<em>Jesus</em>,” before finally reaching for some water. “How do you drink that stuff?”</p><p>Connor shrugs, “Practice.”</p><p>When they finish eating, full and warm, Evan feels a bit… confident? So he decides to ask the question. The one that’s been gnawing at him for weeks. “What changed? With you, I mean. You’re like…nicer, I guess. And you talk more. It’s nice.”</p><p>Connor doesn’t answer him at first, instead taking a long drink of his lager. He expels a loud burp, and Evan winces slightly. “Therapy. And the meds. I guess they’re working. It’s about time Larry and Cynthia finally got me some help. I’ve been… needing it for years. At this point, anything is better than nothing. What about you?”</p><p>“Me?”</p><p>“Yeah. Do you see anyone for your anxiety?”</p><p>Evan tenses. He doesn't usually tell people that he struggles with anxiety, but he supposes that it’s not like it isn’t obvious. He looks down at his hands and rubs his palms – a nervous tick he’s never quite gotten rid of. “Y-yeah. She’s alright, I guess. Anything is better than nothing,” he sends a quick smile over to Connor, repeating his words.</p><p>“Cool,” Connor takes another swig.</p><p>Before Evan loses his confidence, he asks the other question that’s been niggling at his brain for a while. “Why do you call them Larry and Cynthia?” He asked this question a few months ago, but it remained unanswered.</p><p>Again, Connor takes a moment to respond. “They’re not my parents,” he grumbles bitterly.</p><p>“You’re adopted?” Evan blurts.</p><p>Connor looks up suddenly, surprised. “What? No, fuck. I mean that they’re not ‘Mom and Dad’. They’ve never been ‘Mom and Dad’. I mean, Cynthia tries, but it’s all fake. Fake smiles, fake hugs, fake love. And Larry, well… he spends most of his time ignoring and avoiding me. It’s easier that way for him, I guess.” Connor takes a breath. “They don’t know me, and they don’t try to know me. They don’t really understand what depression and anxiety are, ‘cause they’ve never had it themselves. They just think I’m sad sometimes, but it’s completely fucking different. Well, you know. And they think pretending everything is okay will make things okay. But everything’s not okay. And Zoe, she’s a fucking angel. They think she’s perfect, like she can’t do anything wrong. And God, I fucking hate her for it. It’s like they gave up on me when Zoe was born. She’s the kid they wanted, not me. I hate her, and I hate that I hate her. We were closer when we were kids. But we got older and she kept… being perfect. And I kept screwing up. Fuck,” Connor stops to take a drink. “I just dumped all my problems on you.”</p><p>“It’s okay.”</p><p>“No it’s not fucking ‘okay’. I have a therapist for this shit.” Connor stares at the wall.</p><p>Evan rubs the palms of his hands some more. “Well, I mean, you can rely on other people, too. I’ve been told I’m a good listener.” Literally no one has ever told Evan that, because who would ever talk to Evan? But he considers himself a better listener than a speaker.</p><p>“I guess that’s true.”</p><p>It’s quiet for a moment. “I don’t think you hate her,” Evan says, referring to Zoe.</p><p>Connor looks at him. “You’re right. I don’t. But sometimes it feels like it.”</p><p>“Maybe you should try turning that anger into something else? Like, next time Zoe does something good. Instead of feeling, um, jealous, you could, you could pretend like you’re really proud of her. Anger and love are both really, really powerful emotions, and sometimes they can feel the same. So you might be, uh, be able to trick yourself into thinking that you’re actually happy for Zoe, instead of annoyed with her or whatever.”</p><p>“Does that work for you?” Connor seems interested.</p><p>“Mm sometimes. I can convince myself that instead of feeling, nervous, instead I pretend I’m actually excited. It’s the same kind of feeling in your stomach. Like butterflies.” Evan places a hand over his abdomen absentmindedly. “It doesn’t always work. But sometimes it does.”</p><p>Connor nods. “Yeah, okay, I’ll try it.” They sit in silence for a while, neither of them particularly feeling like working on trigonometry tonight. Connor finishes off his drink before saying suddenly, “So what’s the deal with your dad?”</p><p>Evan’s eyes widen. “What?”</p><p>“You never talk about him. And whenever someone brings it up, we all walk on eggshells around you. Like, I know he left when you were a kid. Second grade, right? But, like, what’s the deal? With you and him, I mean.”</p><p>Evan takes a small breath. “Um, yeah. I dunno. He left. What’s there to tell?”</p><p>Connor opens the other bottle and watches Evan as he takes a drink. “Come on, Hansen. It’s your turn to be vulnerable.” He settles back into his seat.</p><p>Evan takes a deep breath. “I mean, I don’t know what you want to know. He just didn’t come back home one night. After he and my mom had a fight. And now he lives in Colorado with his new wife and their new son and he never calls or writes and I’m just left behind like I don’t matter and he’s forgotten about me. I mean, he never wanted us. Me and mom. He-he called me, retarded and, and he always yelled and he was ne-never home –” Evan’s eyes start spilling over with tears and he has to keep wiping his nose, and he’s so embarrassed, “and when he <em>was</em> home he wasn’t <em>here</em>,” Evan is speaking faster, the words coming out in a jumble, and he can’t seem to stop, “and-and-and I wasn’t – he never – we didn’t do things that a father and son should do, you know? And-and-and-and now I-I’m-I'm-I'm, I’m eighteen and-and I don’t know how to be a man because he left – he <em>left</em> – and it’s his fault I-I don’t know what to do or-or-or who to be and-and I don’t know, I don’t know how to talk to people, especially girls, and it’s-it's his, it's <em>his fault</em> I don’t know how to be a good boyfriend, I mean, I can’t even tie a-a-a-a fucking tie or-or throw a football –” At this point Evan starts hyperventilating. “I can’t – haa, ha, I-I-I, he’s –”</p><p>The world is blurry and dark and his body is shaking and his teeth are chattering and he’s so cold but he’s also so, so hot, and he’s shivering but he’s sweating and the whole world is slipping away. But then there’s a strong hand on his neck, shoving his head between his knees, and another hand is rubbing small circles on his upper back. Evan can’t really feel the hand on his back but his skin tingles and stings where it’s being touched, so he knows it’s there. Somewhere in the fog and his heartbeat thumping erratically in his ears, he hears someone telling him to breathe. Who’s telling him to breathe? He’s not sure. He doesn’t really know where he is or who is steadily rubbing his back, but he decides to trust the voice that tells him to calm down and breathe deeply. So he breathes deeply. He counts his breaths. And almost as suddenly as it began, his face and head are very warm and his vision comes back, though it’s still slightly dark around the edges like a vignette, and he can hear the sounds of the kitchen and Connor’s soft voice. His breathing slows a bit. Connor steps away from him, letting Evan sit upright when he can and let the excess blood leave his head. He barely registers Connor’s movements as he wipes his eyes and nose and continues focusing on his breathing, his hands braced on his knees because even though he’s sitting down, Evan feels like he could lose his balance at any moment.</p><p>After a minute, his arms and legs still feel a bit shaky and he’s suddenly really tired, but he feels a bit more like a human being. He looks up to see Connor sitting back in his chair. “So,” Connor says simply. A small opening for Evan to explain.</p><p>Normally Evan would feel embarrassed by having a panic attack in front of someone else, but frankly he’s too tired and too numb to really care at the moment. “Sorry,” he croaks.</p><p>Connor just shrugs.</p><p>“How did you… how did you know what to do? When I started, um,” Evan doesn’t finish his sentence.</p><p>Again, Connor shrugs.</p><p>With nothing being said, Evan begins to feel a bit uncomfortable in the silence. He gets up and, wobbling a bit, still unbalanced, he walks to the sink and gets a glass of tap water. He drinks it slowly. Connor watches him.</p><p>Evan is suddenly very aware of how soaked through his shirt is with sweat. Finishing his drink he turns to Connor. “Um, it’s pretty clear we’re not gonna get any, any work done tonight. So. You can leave, if you want.” Connor doesn’t say anything or move to get up. “I’m, uh, gonna go change my shirt,” Evan says. Still nothing. So Evan just walks out of the kitchen and up the stairs and into his room. <em>That was weird.</em></p><p>Evan grabs a clean shirt and takes it to the bathroom. He strips off his sweaty garment, swipes a bit of fresh deodorant on his armpits, and shrugs on the new shirt. Looking in the mirror, he realizes that his nose is red and his cheeks are tear streaked. After washing his face and running a comb through his hair, he looks again. His reflection looks back at him, nose still a little red and eyes a bit unfocused. “What the hell is wrong with you,” he mumbles to himself. “Why can’t you be a normal person?” He closes his eyes, feeling them begin to fill with tears again. When he opens them, his eyes meet angry ones. <em>You’re nothing</em>, he thinks. <em>You’re nothing</em>.</p><p>Evan wipes his eyes again and leaves the bathroom. He’s startled to see Connor sitting on his bed. “Jesus, Connor. I thought you left.”</p><p>Connor watches him as Evan sits next to him. “So,” Evan says.</p><p>Connor narrows his eyes a bit. Like he’s thinking. “So,” he starts, “have you talked to your therapist about your dad?”</p><p>“Um, no, not really.”</p><p>Connor nods. “You might want to. ‘Cause I can listen, but I don’t know anything about a proper father-son relationship.” Evan smiles a bit at this. “But, I think you have a similar problem as me.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>Connor looks away. “We have to stop blaming them.”</p><p>Evan’s a bit surprised by Connor’s sudden revelation. But he’s right. So Evan tells him that. “I guess it’s just easier. To blame someone else.”</p><p>Connor nods. “’You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view. Until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.’ Harper Lee, <em>To Kill A Mockingbird</em>.” Connor comments nonchalantly, like he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. He takes a look around the room. “You know, this is the first time I’ve seen your room.”</p><p>Evan blanches a bit when he realizes that his room is a mess. There are several piles of textbooks and clothes on the floor, his desk is messy with books and papers, the contents of his backpack are strewn across the floor under his desk chair, and his bed was hastily made this morning. “It’s a bit of a mess,” he admits.</p><p>Connor shrugs again. “No worse than mine.” They’re quiet again for a moment until Connor leans back on the bed. “So, you’re having problems with Zoe?”</p><p>“What?” Evan nearly shouts.</p><p>“Earlier, you said you don’t know how to be a good boyfriend.”</p><p>“Oh,” Evan says sheepishly, “Yeah. But, like. I can’t talk about this. With you.”</p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>“Well, you’re… her brother. And,” Evan closes his eyes. He decides to voice his insecurity of their whole situation, “I kind of… used you… to get to her.” Evan scrunches his face a bit, instantly regretting his words. God, it sounds awful out loud. “It sounds awful out loud,” he says.</p><p>“We’re both using each other, so what does it matter?”</p><p>Evan supposes this is true. “It’s just, I don’t… feel. Anything. When I’m with her. Like, not even the kind of I-don’t-have-romantic-feelings-but-I-like-you-as-a-friend kind of feelings. I mean, don’t get me wrong, she’s fun to hang out with. But, when we, um, k-kiss, I just don’t… feel anything. It’s like I’m kissing a wall. But-but, I’m-not-saying-she’s-a-bad-kisser!” He says quickly, but Connor just makes a face. “I’ve just been so f-frustrated. Zoe’s my girlfriend. And she’s nice. And she cares about me, but… I don’t feel any attraction or connection.” Evan thinks he sees Connor smile for a second, but then it’s gone.</p><p>“How long have you been feeling that way?”</p><p>Evan looks down and picks fuzz off his socks. “The whole time, I guess. Since our first kiss. Our whole relationship is fake, anyway. She doesn’t really like me.”</p><p>Connor rolls his eyes, “Oh, please. How many times have I heard her say she likes you? I've lost count.”</p><p>“Well, yeah, but she likes a version of me. She likes the me who is her brother’s best friend. She likes the Evan who tells her stories about our friendship and how you love her more than you let on.” Evan sees Connor scrunch his nose. “It’s all a lie. She doesn’t even know who I am.” Evan curls into himself more tightly and rests his head on his knees.</p><p>Connor watches him for a moment. “I know who you are,” he says.</p><p>This makes him feel a little better. Maybe it’s just nice to have someone in on his secret, with whom he can be himself. “Yeah, I know,” Evan says softly. “But you’re not Zoe.”</p><p>Connor looks at his hands. “So what are you gonna do?”</p><p>Evan sighs. “Honestly? I don’t know.”</p><p>Connor nods, and says suddenly, “Do you ever think that maybe the reason you don’t feel anything is because of your medication?” Connor motions to the pill bottle on Evan’s nightstand.</p><p>Blushing, Evan grabs it and tries to stuff it away, “That’s not… it’s for my… asthma.”</p><p>Connor swipes the bottle from Evan’s hands quickly. “Ativan,” he reads. “For anxiety.”</p><p>Evan grabs the bottle back.</p><p>“How long have you been taking those?”</p><p>Evan flushes and mumbles, “Six years.”</p><p>“Everyday?” Connor nearly shouts. “Evan, that stuff can seriously stunt you, emotionally, if you overuse it! Didn’t your, didn’t anyone tell you that?”</p><p>Evan doesn’t answer, but his eyes are feeling wet again, so he looks away instead.</p><p>Connor scoots a little closer and tentatively takes one of Evan’s hands, which normally would make Evan uncomfortable, physical contact and all that, but right now he doesn’t really care since most of his focus is going into making himself stop crying. “You know, Evan, no one can help you unless you let them. You won’t get better until you choose to. I mean, yeah, I’m taking pills right now to feel a little more normal until therapy really starts working. And I might be taking medicine for a long time, but… I want to get better. I don’t want to rely on them forever. But six years? And with Ativan. That’s just… not okay.”</p><p>Evan watches as Connor rubs his thumb gently across Evan’s hand, and his heart speeds up a bit. “I’m scared,” he admits. “Because I don’t, uh, know who I am. Without the… anxiety,” he says quietly.</p><p>They’re silent for a while. Evan’s mind goes a bit blank with Connor’s tender affection. He examines their hands. Connor’s skin is pale and smooth, while Evan has freckles all over his. Evan’s fingernails are bitten down, and his fingers are a bit shorter and more stumpy than Connor’s long and lean ones.</p><p>Evan blinks out of his reverie when Connor unexpectedly says, “Let’s go get some ice cream.”</p><p>“What?” Evan is perplexed. “But it’s January.”</p><p>“So?”</p><p>Evan thinks it’s hard to argue with that logic. They grab their shoes and coats, and Connor drives them to Russell’s Ice Cream for two cones to go. Connor chooses Mint Chocolate Chip, and Evan goes for his favorite Rocky Road. They run to Connor’s car with their cones, and they eat their ice cream with the heater blasting, licking and slurping their quickly melting dessert. Evan watches Connor’s tongue glide slowly over his ice cream. Evan must be hungry, because he drools a bit. Connor says something stupid, which makes Evan laugh, and they sit and talk about nothing in particular for a while. Evan forgets all about his “daddy-issues” and Zoe Murphy problem.</p><p>On the drive back, it starts to snow. Evan watches as the streetlights blur, and the car horns become muffled under the soft, falling ice. He lays his head back against the seat and looks on lazily as the New York suburbs pass by. He feels something… maybe contentment? He hasn’t felt like this for a while.</p><p>All too soon, Connor pulls up to Evan’s house, and their ice cream escapade is over. They run inside, slipping on ice and laughing at each other.</p><p>Evan makes two cups of peppermint tea to warm them up, and then he begins Connor’s trigonometry lesson, for real this time, against Connor’s protests. They might as well try to do <em>something</em> productive tonight. He sips his tea and watches Connor furrow his brow in concentration. Evan smiles a bit.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Why are you smiling?”</p><p>Evan smiles a bit more, but he’s not sure why. “No reason.”</p><p>Connor smiles back at him.</p><p>A half hour later, Evan suggests it’s time for Connor to go home before the roads become too icy. While Connor shrugs on his coat, Evan waits awkwardly by the door to see him out.</p><p>“Thanks for, um. Tonight. For everything.”</p><p>Connor turns to him. “Evan, can we be friends? Like, real friends.”</p><p>Evan blinks. He hadn’t really thought about it before. “Y-yeah, I suppose. We’re friends,” he nods.</p><p>The ends of Connor’s mouth quirk up a little bit. “Good.” He opens the front door, and Evan walks him to his car. “Hey, don’t be afraid of who you are without the anxiety. That’s something we can figure out together.” Connor smiles. He starts to open his car door but pauses and turns around. He pulls Evan into a sudden hug.</p><p>“O-oh,” Evan breathes, surprised. After a delayed reaction, he hugs Connor back. It’s different from the hugs he gets from Zoe and Mrs. Murphy. Theirs are usually warm and soft, but Connor hugs fiercely, with a kind of desperation. Like he’s not sure when he’ll get the chance to touch another person again. It’s tight, and usually Evan doesn’t like tight spaces, but this sort of tight is… comforting. Like being wrapped in a blanket.</p><p>Letting go, Connor mumbles a goodbye and gets into his car. Evan watches him drive off, still a bit shocked. Long after Connor’s headlights disappear down the street, Evan still stands there, shivering, with snowflakes melting through his clothes.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yay! Emotional talks and physical contact abound! When I wrote about Evan taking a sip of Connor’s drink, the only thing my stupid anime brain could think was “indirect kissssss!!!” so there’s that. I covered a lot of stuff in a short amount of time, so I hope everything was relatively clear. Basically, Connor has depression and anxiety, and Evan has anxiety, and now they both know what the other is struggling with. They also both have problems with their parents, and these issues will be coming up soon! I’m excited for them to both face their fears and shortcomings; hopefully they’ll come out the other side better for it. </p><p>Also, after rereading this, I realized that I had Connor drive after he’d had two drinks, whoops. So please ignore that. I imagine that Connor can hold his alcohol pretty well, since he’s been drinking since who knows when, but he’s also, like, super light weight? So, yeah. Don’t drink and drive, kids!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. An Interrogation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>OMG DO YALL FOLLOW BEN PLATT ON INSTA HE GOT A HAVANESE PUPPY I CANT</p><p>Chapter warnings: some swearing, mentions of past suicide attempts, mentions of therapy and medication, abominable baking skills</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s been a couple of days since his discussion with Connor, and Evan has decided something. Something big. Something important. So on Friday after school, Evan marches into his therapist’s office for their weekly standing three-thirty appointment with a strange kind of confidence that he’s never had before.</p><p>Dr. Sherman looks up expectantly and begins to greet him. She doesn’t seem to recognize the Confident Expression on Evan’s face, so she doesn’t know what’s about to happen. Evan doesn’t let that deter him; in fact, it pushes him to be even more confident.</p><p>“This isn’t working,” he says assertively as he bursts into her office and begins pacing. “So we need to figure something out so that <em>this</em>,” he motions between the two of them, “works, because it has to work, because I want to get better.” Evan pauses in his stride and smiles. “I want to get better,” he says a little more quietly this time, just to himself, because it actually feels really good to say it out loud.</p><p>Dr. Sherman is looking at him with owl eyes and a confused face because typically their sessions always play out the same way. She would ask Evan how he’s been doing, if his medication is still working, if he’s still writing the letters to himself, and if there’s anything he would like to talk about today. And subsequently Evan would reply with his typical Fine, Yes, Yes, and No.</p><p>But then Dr. Sherman smiles a knowing smile, and Evan is the one to become confused. She motions for him to sit on the couch opposite of her, and he does. “Good,” she says. “Good.” She clicks on her computer a couple of times before turning back to Evan, who is now the one sporting the owl eyes and confused face. “I already have a plan laid out for us,” she explains. “But I never pushed it forward because I knew you would resist it. But now that you <em>want </em>to get better, I can help you. If you’ll let me.”</p><p>Evan gulps. He has to say it. He’s decided to be honest from now on. “I don’t trust you.”</p><p>Dr. Sherman smiles again, gently this time. “I know. And that’s normal. I’ve done nothing to earn your trust yet. But I promise you, Evan, I want to help you. I want you to get better. And I hope that you will trust me on that.”</p><p>“I do.”</p><p>“Okay.” She types something on her computer. “So what are we going to talk about?”</p><p>–</p><p>Evan gets home before his mom. He waits for her at the kitchen table. She walks in the door around five-thirty. She smiles brightly when she sees her son, wiping away the dark circles under her eyes. “Evan! How was your day, honey?”</p><p>Evan gives her a genuine smile back. “It was good. I saw Dr. Sherman today.”</p><p>Heidi is bustling about the kitchen, putting the dishes from her packed lunch into the sink. “Oh? How was your session?”</p><p>“It was really good.”</p><p>Heidi turns to him. “Really good?”</p><p>“Yup. I think we finally connected today. I think things are gonna be okay.”</p><p>Heidi smiles again, this time so wide it looks like it would hurt. “Oh, Ev, that’s so good to hear. I’m so happy for you, hun.” She sits down at the table with him. “Will you tell me about it?”</p><p>And so he tells her about it. Over a dinner of leftovers, Evan tells her that he’s going to start practicing EMDR with Dr. Sherman, that he’s a little apprehensive about it, but that he’s also going to go at it with an open mind. Heidi nods between bites and gazes at her son with glowing, motherly affection.</p><p>“Mom,” Evan begins, “I have to tell you something.”</p><p>His mom stops eating, suddenly looking worried.</p><p>“It’s-nothing-bad-though!” Evan nearly shouts, and the worry lines on Heidi’s forehead soften a bit.</p><p>“Okay, shoot.”</p><p>Evan puts his hands in his lap and starts playing with his shirt hem. Some habits never die. His stomach is turning a little, but he’s decided he’s tired of lying. “I’m dating someone.”</p><p>Heidi’s eyes widen, and she puts her fork down on the table. “Oh?” A simple opening to let Evan explain, but only if he wants to.</p><p>He wants to. “Her name is Zoe Murphy. I’ve liked her since… for a long time. We went on our first date a couple of months ago, and we’ve gone on a couple more since then. She’s really nice, and she’s smart, and fun, and her family is really wonderful. I have dinner with them a lot when you’re working nights. At their house.” Heidi is listening quietly with no emotion on her face. Evan takes a deep breath. “And her brother… we’re friends. We’re really good friends.” Evan smiles, thinking of Connor. “He’s a little rough around the edges, but he’s good once you get to know him. And, um, I tutor him for trigonometry every Tuesday and Thursday night.” He looks up at his mom, and she’s beaming.</p><p>“That’s so great, Ev, hun. That’s really… I’m so happy for you.”</p><p>Evan nods. “Good. Good, good, that’s good." Evan swallows. "I was afraid you might be mad. Because I didn’t tell you for so long.”</p><p>“I mean, it’s not ideal, and I know I’m not around much, but Evan. You know you can tell me anything, right?”</p><p>Evan nods again. “Yeah, I do.”</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>It’s quiet as they continue eating. Then Heidi asks, because she’s a mom so she has to: “Do I get to meet them?”</p><p>Evan’s stomach turns again. “Maybe. I don’t know yet.”</p><p>Heidi gives him an encouraging nod. “Okay. That’s fine. No pressure.” They eat again for a while. “What’s your friend’s name? Her brother.”</p><p>“Connor.”</p><p>“Connor,” Heidi pauses, furrowing her brow in recognition, “Connor, as in the Connor who signed your cast? Who tried to kill himself?” Her tone changes from reassuring to harsh in an instant.</p><p>Evan winces. “He’s better now. He’s good.”</p><p>“Evan, he tried to kill himself! That’s… I don’t want you to be around someone like that. There’s no excuse for that. It’s awful. It’s cowardly.”</p><p>Evan turns red. He doesn’t want to think about what she would say if she knew the whole truth. Because yeah, Evan is tired of lying. But only mostly. “It’s fine, Mom.”</p><p>“People don’t change, Evan.”</p><p>“He’s in therapy,” Evan defends, not sure if he should be talking about Connor’s private business with someone else. “And he’s on meds, like me. And he’s getting better. And he inspires me to be better. He gets it. And I… you just don’t know him like I do. He’s good.”</p><p>Heidi shakes her head, but she doesn’t reply. Because she doesn’t really understand.</p><p>Evan rinses his dishes off and puts them in the dishwasher before going upstairs to his room without another word to his mom. He knows he’s right, but he’s emotionally exhausted and doesn’t want to argue with her anymore. But when she knocks on his door a while later with tea, he lets her come in.</p><p>They sit a while in silence, with only the sounds of tea being sipped. Heidi breaks the quiet. “Evan, it’s good that you’re making friends. And I’m glad that you’re becoming… more sure of yourself. I just worry about you. And when you tell me that you’re spending time with someone who was recently suicidal, it scares me. Because I don’t know this kid. You say he’s ‘good’, but I can’t know that for myself. For all I know, he could be a bad influence on you, and you know you can be… compliant to the emotions of other people. I just worry about you. It’s my job.”</p><p>Evan nods because he understands. He doesn’t like it, but he gets why his mom would say those things about Connor. “Okay,” he says.</p><p>“I’d like to meet him. It’d make me feel better to know him, and know that he’s not… to know that he’s good.”</p><p>“Okay,” he says again.</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>They sit a while longer, drinking their tea, until Evan decides that he’s exhausted. It’s been a tough week. So Heidi gives him a kiss on the head and wishes him goodnight. She closes the door behind her. Evan finishes his tea and climbs into bed. He texts Connor.</p><p>
  <em>Evan: my mom wants to meet you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Connor: fuck</em>
</p><p>–</p><p>“Tell me again why I have to do this?”</p><p>“Because she asked nicely.”</p><p>Connor groans. “I can’t believe I have to meet your mom.” Connor is driving Evan home from school today, since they’re both headed to the same destination.</p><p>“It won’t be that bad.”</p><p>“You basically said she hates me.”</p><p>“She doesn’t <em>hate </em>you… She’s just worried that you might be… not the best person in the world.</p><p>Connor gives him a sideways glance. “So, she hates me.”</p><p>“She doesn’t hate you! She’ll really like you when she gets to know you. I think.”</p><p>“Evan,” Connor gives a small sigh, “’People generally see what they look for, and hear what they listen for.’”</p><p>“Was that another quote?”</p><p>“<em>To Kill A Mockingbird</em>, Harper Lee.”</p><p>“That’s the second time you’ve quoted that book.” Evan looks over at Connor, who’s eyes widen a bit. “Um, not that I’m counting or anything.”</p><p>They don’t speak again until they’re standing in front of Evan’s front door.</p><p>“Tell me again why I have to do this?” Connor asks for the second time in the last ten minutes.</p><p>“It’s either this, or we can’t ever hang out again,” Evan jokes, fully expecting Connor to reply with something along the lines of “I like that idea better” or “Let’s do that instead” or “Well I never really liked you anyway”.</p><p>Instead, Connor almost immediately strides into the house. Evan follows, closing the door behind him. “Mom? We’re here,” Evan shouts into the house.</p><p>“I’m in the kitchen, hun,” comes a response. Evan sniffs the air. It smells… like burned marshmallows.</p><p><em>Oh no</em>. Evan pushes past Connor and bursts into the kitchen. “Mom, you didn’t…” Evan begins, but there is Heidi, hair up in a messy ponytail with stray fly-aways, a bit of flour on her chin, and a plate of what Evan can only assume are chocolate chip cookies (?) in her hand. Evan grimaces as Connor pops his head into the kitchen.</p><p>“Wow, a welcoming party,” Connor says. Evan grits his teeth, hoping his mom doesn’t pick up on Connor’s sarcasm.</p><p>Heidi smiles widely, greeting Connor and welcoming him into their home. Evan closes his eyes and takes a breath. This is already a disaster. There’s a reason why Evan and his mom eat out more often than cooking for themselves. Because Evan got his gene as a shit cook from his mom. She burns everything. The only thing she can make properly is pancakes.</p><p>When Evan opens his eyes again, Connor is happily chewing through one of Heidi’s tough cookies and listening as Heidi chats animatedly, and Evan breathes a little easier. When they move into the living room to talk, Evan makes sure the plate of cookies stays in the kitchen.</p><p>“I’m sorry we haven’t met earlier,” Heidi explains, “Evan only just told me about you and your sister.”</p><p>Connor raises his eyebrows. “Oh?”</p><p>“He’s so shy about these things, well you know.”</p><p>Heidi sits in the armchair, while Evan and Connor take their places on the couch. They both sit stiffly upright, rather than the more relaxed, splayed out pose that they usually take on the couch. “Well, Evan’s told me all about <em>you</em>. He talks about you a lot, about the fun things you do together, and how he misses you when you’re not home. You’d think he loves you or something,” Connor teases.</p><p>“Shut up,” Evan manages.</p><p>Heidi, in the true, cringe-worthy motherly way, holds her hand to her heart and sighs softly, “Oh, Evan.” She watches him as he embarrassedly smooths his hands over his legs for a moment before shifting her attention back to Connor. “So, Connor, tell me about yourself then. Do you have a job?”</p><p>Connor takes a deep breath. He knows that this is the part where Heidi interviews him, and he has to make a good impression. “Not currently, no. I used to work for a used car salesman, mostly driving the cars to their designated places and doing deep cleaning for any used cars coming in. That’s actually where I got my car, for a good price too, since I was an employee. But I quit last summer. I wanted to have my last high school summer free to relax or whatever.”</p><p>Heidi nods. “That’s understandable. Do you have anything you like to do for fun?”</p><p>“Mmm, not much. I enjoy reading a lot.”</p><p>“Anything good?”</p><p>“Oh, sure. I read a lot of classic literature, mostly American and British, but I’ll read other international authors sometimes. My favorite author is probably Ernest Hemingway, but my favorite book is a Dickens. <em>Tale of Two Cities</em>.” Connor gives her a small smile.</p><p>“I bet your grades in English are great, then!”</p><p>Connor lets loose a nasally laugh. “Yeah, they’re pretty good. My favorite classes are definitely English and Art.”</p><p>“You do art? What kind?”</p><p>Connor thinks for a moment. “I’ve experimented with most medias, but my favorite is probably charcoal. I do a lot of still life and portraits with my charcoal pencils. Just whatever catches my eye and I think ‘I have to get that down on paper’, ya know?” Evan glances at Connor. He’d never said anything about art before.</p><p>Heidi nods again. “That’s nice, good to have a hobby that you enjoy. What about your other classes?”</p><p>“Well, the sciences have never been my favorite, but I do well enough. I’m currently taking Bio; I couldn’t stand another year of Chemistry since I’m so bad at math. Which is why Evan tutors me in trigonometry. I know that’s a pretty basic math level, but I do struggle with it. Except not as much lately, because of Evan. My math grade went from a D to a C in just these last couple of months because of him.” Connor gives a small head jerk towards Evan, who is currently flushed from the compliments. Connor smirks. “It’s surprising how quickly I’ve caught up, since I was in the hospital for the first two months of school. I’m on track to graduate on time, thanks to Ev.”</p><p>Heidi frowns slightly when Connor mentions the hospital. “Yes, the hospital,” she says, almost absentmindedly.</p><p>It’s quiet for a moment, somewhat awkward, until Connor speaks again. “Okay, I know that’s a big reason why I’m here to meet you in such a proper way. The hospital. It’s okay to talk about it. Yes, I tried to kill myself. And I know that sounds awful and really doesn’t do much for your opinion of me. But I was in a really bad place you have to understand, and I, I had been for a long time. I wasn’t getting the help that I needed because my… those resources weren’t an option for me at the time.” Heidi is watching him with apprehension, but Connor pushes forward. “Look, I'm, I’m not proud of the choices I made, and I understand now how lucky I am that I was unsuccessful. I’m <em>glad</em> I was unsuccessful. I’m seeing a therapist, and I’m taking a medication that works with me, and, and yeah, I’m not perfect. I’ll never be perfect. But I’m on a path to becoming the person who I want to be, and I want to be a better person for the people that I care about. Really, I understand how much I’ve hurt the people I love, and I never want to do that again. I never want to sink so low. And sure, I have my bad days, but. They’re just days. They used to be bad weeks, bad months. I have reasons, now, to stay on course. To keep getting better. So. I hope you can understand and accept my flaws. I don’t expect you to forget them, or ignore them, but know that a person has to reach rock bottom before they can begin to climb. I’ve hit my rock bottom. It can only get better from here on out.” Connor lets out a long breath, signaling the end of his speech. Evan stares at him in amazement, wondering when he became so mature.</p><p>Heidi’s eyebrows are furrowed, clearly thinking over what Connor’s said. After a moment, her face softens. “Okay. Okay. I don’t like it –”</p><p>“– and I would never expect you to –”</p><p>“– but I understand. And I appreciate how well you’ve handled the situation and our discussion. I’d like to thank you for being so forward with me.”</p><p>Connor nods his thanks for the compliment. “If it helps you feel more comfortable with Evan’s and my friendship, I’d be glad to give you regular updates on my mental health journey.” Again, Evan is shocked by his levelheadedness.</p><p>Heidi agrees that she’d like updates, and they move on to more enjoyable topics.</p><p>–</p><p>Once his mom is satisfied with her interrogation, she leaves the two of them alone to “hang out”. Evan suggests they put on a movie (Jurassic Park, because it’s one of Connor’s favorites), and they settle on the couch with a blanket. Except Evan quickly learns that Connor is a blanket hog, so Evan goes upstairs to grab his comforter.</p><p>He catches Connor looking at him a few times throughout the movie and wonders why Connor denies it when he asks. Maybe Connor is just trying to gauge Evan’s reaction to his favorite movie, even though Evan’s seen it a dozen times already.</p><p>Around nine o’clock, after watching not only the first but also the second installment of the Jurassic Park trilogy, Evan walks Connor out to his car. It’s February, and Evan shoves his hands in his pockets to protect his fingers from the icy, frostbitten air.</p><p>“Did you really mean all that?” It’s been bugging Evan since his mom’s interrogation. “Everything you said back there. About, like, giving her updates and everything? I mean, that’s kind of a personal thing, isn’t it?”</p><p>Connor pauses in front of the car door. “Yeah, I did. If she has to be okay with us hanging out, then I have to be okay with her knowing about my mental health. ‘Trust goes both ways.’”</p><p>“’Trust goes both ways.’” Evan narrows his eyes a bit. He’s getting pretty good at realizing when Connor is quoting something. “Let me guess. <em>Oliver Twist</em>? Or no, maybe <em>Lord of the Flies</em>? <em>Old Man and the Sea</em>?”</p><p>Connor grins. “Nah. <em>Star Wars</em>.” And then he gets in his car and backs out of the driveway, leaving Evan with his mouth slightly open in disbelief.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next update will be on Wednesday the 27th! See you soon!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Alana's Club</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter notes: This is a bit of a filler chapter, but I think it still fits really well into the story. It’s Alana’s time to shine! She doesn’t have much of a role in this fic, but I still wanted to include her because she is a Valid Character. It’s a bit short, but sweet, I think. I guess this is a bit of a play on The Connor Project. Hope you enjoy!</p>
<p>Chapter warnings: swearing. that's it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Usually, when Evan closes his locker door in the mornings, Jared is waiting behind it. And usually, he scares Evan shitless. Because Evan is jumpy, and Jared likes to exploit that. But today, Jared is nowhere to be seen. Evan both tenses and breathes a sigh of relief – Jared isn’t here, but that means that he’s probably hiding somewhere around a corner waiting to jump out.</p>
<p><em>It’s fine, you’re fine</em>, he tells himself. <em>It’s just Jared. He does this every day. Don’t freak out</em>.</p>
<p>Evan takes a breath, closes his locker door, and turns around. And he lets out a strangled yelp.</p>
<p>“Hi, Evan!”</p>
<p>Evan clutches his chest, his heart stuttering. “Alana,” he breathes, “how long have you been standing there?”</p>
<p>Alana looks unperturbed. “Just a minute. You seemed deep in thought, so I waited to have your full attention.”</p>
<p>Evan takes one deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Alright, you’ve got it. What’s up?” Evan takes a quick glance around, hoping to spot Connor or Zoe or even Jared at this point. Despite spending almost every lunch hour this year with Alana and the gang, along with numerous hours out of school, Evan finds he still doesn’t know her very well. Oh, he knows the persona that she reveals to the world just fine. He knows the outgoing, happy, diligent student Alana. But he doesn’t know <em>Alana</em>. He’s noticed, over time, that she carefully selects the bits and pieces of herself to show to the world, but the rest is reserved for behind closed doors.</p>
<p>He understands this, really. It’s not like he’s not guilty of the same thing. He doesn’t talk about his crippling anxiety, or his frustration. He doesn’t go around telling people that he loves nature, that he’d like to visit every single National Park that the world has to offer. He doesn’t admit to secretly loving romantic comedies because they always have a happy ending. He’s a sucker for happy endings; they usually make him cry, but like, the good kind of crying, which he so rarely experiences in the real world.</p>
<p>But Evan doesn’t share these things with people simply because he doesn’t think anyone would be interested. Alana, on the other hand, seems so self-conscious and scared to show the world her true self, and Evan’s not sure why. It makes him feel like she’s hiding something terrible.</p>
<p>So Evan doesn’t like to be alone with Alana for very long. What if she chooses Evan to reveal her terrible secret to? He doesn’t think he could handle that kind of pressure.</p>
<p>But he doesn’t see anyone he knows in the packed hallway, so he resigns himself to Alana’s eager expression. Her eyes are comically wide. “I’ve started a club.”</p>
<p>Evan just raises his eyebrows.</p>
<p>Alana stands there, smiling, expecting something. Evan doesn’t say anything. “Well?”</p>
<p>“Well, what?”</p>
<p>“Will you join?”</p>
<p>“I don’t even know what the club is about.”</p>
<p>“Oh, right,” Alana waves a hand. “It’s an environmental club! And I figured, since you love nature, that you’d want to join? I’m president, obviously, and Eric Gonzalez, you know him, from chem lab? He’s treasurer, and Kim Jeong, she’s in my P.E. class, she’s Vice President, and Erik Anderson, he’s secretary. And I got Mrs. Casper for our advisor.”</p>
<p>Alana speaks in a blur. Her dictation is ridiculously fast, so Evan only ever catches snippets of what she’s saying, and he has to piece the rest together in his head. But when Alana mentions Evan’s love of nature, he freezes, completely ignoring everything that comes out of Alana’s mouth afterwards. He’d just been thinking about that. Had Zoe told her? Could Alana read minds? “I – what do you mean? That I – that I love nature? I never said that.”</p>
<p>Alana looks slightly crestfallen. “I mean, I just assumed. Since you interned at Ellison over the summer? I figured that you liked it. Nature, I mean. The great outdoors.”</p>
<p>Evan breathes. “Right. Yeah.”</p>
<p>“Great! So you’ll come?”</p>
<p>“When?”</p>
<p>“We don’t have an official day set yet. Are you free Thursdays?”</p>
<p>Evan shakes his head, “I tutor Connor on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”</p>
<p>Alana brightens. “You can bring him along!”</p>
<p>Evan snorts, imagining Connor in an “I’m horny for trees” t-shirt. It’s actually kind of cute. “I don’t think that’s really his scene.”</p>
<p>“What about Fridays?”</p>
<p>They begin walking towards Spanish, their shared first period. Evan thinks of his therapy appointments, scheduled for Fridays after school for the rest of eternity, probably. “I, um. Have a standing… engagement. On Fridays.”</p>
<p>“Okay, no problem,” Alana frowns. “Wednesdays?”</p>
<p>Evan thinks. “Yeah, I mean, Wednesdays work.”</p>
<p>“Great! So then I’ll see you at three!”</p>
<p>Evan halts. “What, today?”</p>
<p>But Alana is already ahead of Evan, skipping down the hallway. And by the time he catches up to her in Ms. Roybal’s Spanish III class, she’s already chatting with other people, surrounded by peers. Evan scowls, too timid to breach their ranks. He takes his seat, in the middle of the room, because the people in the front rows mean business, and the people in the back rows are delinquents. The middle suits Evan. Just an average, middle student. That’s the only label he needs. Lost in the crowd, less likely to be chosen to answer questions. Alana, of course, sits in the front row. Right in the middle, in front of the board. Right where Ms. Roybal, to her distress, can see Alana every time she raises her hand. Which is, like, every thirty seconds.</p>
<p>In fact, Ms. Roybal has only just begun speaking when Alana’s hand shoots into the air. Ms. Roybal lets loose an exasperated sigh, and Alana rapidly asks about something from the homework.</p>
<p>Evan leans his chin into his palm, slouching and already zoning out. <em>Environmental Club, huh?</em> He absentmindedly chews on his nails. He’s never really pictured himself as part of a club, but then again, he’s never really pictured himself with a group of friends either. He supposes it’d be good to step out of his comfort zone. Dr. Sherman had suggested something of the sort in their last appointment.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Try putting yourself out there more. Do one thing every week that makes you a little bit uncomfortable. Start stretching your boundaries.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Evan nods slowly, unsure.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Don’t procrastinate on this, Evan. I’ll be asking you every week about what you did to push yourself.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Evan gives a small, stuttering laugh. “I’m really good at procrastinating, though,” he jokes.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Dr. Sherman doesn’t find it very funny. She frowns slightly. “Evan,” she starts and pauses, her mouth opening and closing as she searches for the right words. “Anxious people tend to procrastinate solely because they are afraid of failure or rejection. You doubt your abilities and your competence to be successful. And that’s fine, doubts are healthy. Doubts are what keep us out of trouble when we feel like maybe a situation isn’t quite safe. But don’t let your doubts keep you from doing something you really want to do. And I know it’s scary, but anxious people have a tendency to only explore the scary “what ifs”. Challenge yourself to remember that there is also a flip side. What if you excel? What if it is one of the best experiences of your life? What if it changes you in a beautiful way?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Evan’s never thought of it that way before. Maybe he could retrain his brain to think of the good possibilities rather than catastrophizing everything that might go wrong.</em>
</p>
<p>He’d promised, after all.</p>
<p>So that Wednesday, you could find Evan walking shyly into Mrs. Casper’s classroom at three o’clock, where Alana said she’d be hosting the first official meeting of the Environmental Club. He looks around the room. Mrs. Casper sits in the back of the room, reading a magazine. She’s really only here for show. He spots Eric G. from chemistry, a short girl with long, dark hair that he’s seen talking to Alana sometimes at lunch who Evan assumes to be Kim Jeong, another boy with pale skin and platinum blonde hair who Evan realizes must be Erik Anderson, and –</p>
<p>
  <em>“Jared?”</em>
</p>
<p>There he sat, next to Alana. Jared Kleinman.</p>
<p>“Acorn!” He shouts, greeting Evan.</p>
<p>Evan tenses. <em>Right.</em> “What – whatareyoudoinghere?” Evan hisses quietly as he slides into the seat next to Jared. Alana and the Eric(k)s are chatting animatedly and take little notice to Evan’s sudden distress. Kim glances up from her notebook, where she’s writing something furiously.</p>
<p>“Duh. I’m here to meet chicks.” Jared throws a classic Joey Tribbiani “How you doin?” nod at Kim, who rolls her eyes and focuses back on her work. Jared frowns. “Alana promised me girls, but this is a total sausage fest.”</p>
<p>Evan grimaces and groans to himself. “Please… don’t say that kind of stuff here.”</p>
<p>Jared suddenly breaks out into a huge grin, and Evan realizes his mistake. <em>Never</em> tell Jared Kleinman what he can and can’t do.</p>
<p>But luckily, before he can make a scene, Alana claps her hands together. “Alright! Introductions! Everyone, you know me, Alana, President. Kim,” Alana gestures towards the only other girl in the room, “is my Vice President. Erik A., Secretary, and Eric G., Treasurer,” she points at the two Eric(k)s. “Jared,” Alana nods towards him, “simpleton,” (Jared gawks) “and Evan, Historian.”</p>
<p>Evan blinks, taken aback. Jared begins with a “Now listen here you little shit,” but Evan speaks over him. “What? Historian?”</p>
<p>Alana ignores Jared, as per usual. “Didn’t I mention that earlier?” Evan shakes his head vigorously. “Oh, well. Yeah, you’re Historian. Unless you don’t want to be? It’s really not a whole lot of work. You just take pictures when we do outings and, you know, give us, like, information about different issues, or you can talk about plants and soils, if you know anything about those. I guess it’s kind of like Historian/Researcher. But it’s really not that hard. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”</p>
<p>She doesn’t give Evan much of a choice in the matter, effectively moving on to her next order of business before giving Evan a chance to reply. <em>Well</em>, Evan supposes, <em>I guess it doesn’t sound that bad.</em> Evan the Historian. He <em>did</em> have a lot of disorganized knowledge running around in his brain about nature with no place else to go. It wouldn’t hurt to put it to use. And as Historian, he’d be the one taking pictures. Well, he wasn’t exactly great with a camera, but at least that means that he won’t have to be in any pictures himself. That in itself leads Evan to release a sigh of relief.</p>
<p>Dr. Sherman probably won’t believe her ears when Evan tells her he’d both joined a club and become one of its officers in the same day. Maybe, since he’d been pulled out his comfort zone twice today, he wouldn’t have to do anything new next week.</p>
<p>“Our official statement of purpose: anyone have any ideas?” The room is quiet, and Alana takes the time to scrutinize each person’s face. “Well, I took the liberty of writing out a rough draft during lunch. ‘The purpose of the Environmental Club is to increase awareness of the relationships between human actions and our environment, educate the school community of steps that can be taken to improve our environment, and to encourage responsible environmental behaviors.’”</p>
<p>It sounds less like a rough draft and more like something that had been agonized over for hours, erasing and rewriting until near perfection. Kim nods, “I think it sounds good.”</p>
<p>Alana beams at the compliment, “Oh, really? Thank you, I worked really hard on it.”</p>
<p>“It shows.”</p>
<p>“Good, good. Any objections?” Again, Alana is met with silence. “I hereby call into effect the official statement of purpose previously stated.”</p>
<p>Evan thinks that a position of power suits Alana. She seems to glow with confidence.</p>
<p>They spend the next forty minutes discussing ideas on how to get more students involved in the environment, whether through recruitment or through other “outreach missions”, as Alana had called it. They settle on a list of eight solid ideas to put into motion in the upcoming months. Alana calls the meeting to an end, and everyone disperses slowly – except for Jared, who seems to bolt out of the door the second Alana speaks the words “meeting adjourned”. Evan packs up his backpack and starts towards the door with the others, but Alana grabs his arm.</p>
<p>She watches carefully as their peers saunter out the door. They are alone in the room. Mrs. Casper, who’d left to supposedly get a cup of coffee about a half an hour ago, had yet to return. Alana, satisfied that they are alone, asks Evan what he thought of the first meeting.</p>
<p>“I mean, it was fine, I guess? I don’t really know a whole lot about clubs, but it seemed pretty standard for club proceedings. As far as I know. Which, again, I really don’t know. But I liked it.”</p>
<p>Alana breathes out. “Really? It wasn’t too boring? Did I do okay? As President, I mean.”</p>
<p><em>Ah</em>, Evan realizes. <em>She needs reassurance</em>. He gives her an encouraging smile. “You did really well, Alana. Really. You wouldn’t know that you hadn’t done this before.”</p>
<p>Placated, Alana thanks and shoos him. She tells him that she wants to stay a while longer to strategize for their next meeting. Evan smiles fondly and leaves, beginning his trek home. He feels that maybe he understands Alana a little better now. At least, he understands that, despite her outward confidence, she still needs some encouragement now and again. Her façade breaks down a little bit in Evan’s head. He may not know <em>Alana</em> entirely yet, but he is beginning to.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Now I want to write a whole fic just about Alana. In my head, she talks, like, SUPER fast. Like, think Lorelei Gilmore fast, and then multiply that speed by ten. Heh.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. The Inevitable</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I was going to post this tomorrow, but I couldn't wait any longer and y'all are just so beautiful and amazing so here ya go!</p><p>So you know how you get second-hand embarrassment when your favorite character does something stupid or finds themselves in an awkward situation? The same sensation happens for the author when writing said situations. Consequently, this chapter was very difficult for me to write. I had to restrain myself, on several occasions, from flinging myself onto my bed and screaming into my pillow at what an idiot Evan is, lol.</p><p>Chapter warnings: slight homophobia (if you squint)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ever since his mom met Connor, Evan has felt a lot more comfortable inviting him over. In fact, Evan and Connor hang out almost every day. Tuesdays and Thursdays are still dedicated to trigonometry lessons, but the rest of the week Evan spends his afternoons either at his house or Connor’s, and sometimes even at Jared’s house, where he, Connor, Jared, Zoe, and Alana spend the hours playing video games, board games, watching movies, chatting, teasing each other, and eating ridiculous amounts of popcorn. Of course, not <em>every</em> day is spent this way. Sometimes Zoe has jazz band practice, or Alana has an exam that she has to over-study for, or Jared is roped into some youth synagogue event by his moms. But Connor is always available to hang out, even when Evan doesn’t necessarily <em>want </em>to spend time with anyone. Evan has realized that Connor doesn’t like to be alone; he’s one of those people that has to be with someone else, for his own sanity. Evan, on the other hand, likes his alone time. But after a while, Evan becomes so used to Connor’s presence that it almost feels like Evan <em>is</em> alone. Connor will be contented to sit in silence if the moment presents itself, just so long as there is someone else in the room with him. At this point, Evan considers Connor an extension of himself, and he almost feels like there’s something missing when Connor goes home for the night.</p><p>Sometimes, Connor doesn’t go home for the night. Maybe he’s had a bad day, or an argument with his parents or Zoe, or he just doesn’t feel like he can manage a whole night alone in his room, so he stays over at Evan’s house. Evan always feels a little guilty when Connor snuggles up on the floor next to Evan’s twin bed. Connor can’t possibly be comfortable, right? But Connor always says he’d rather be on Evan’s floor than on the couch downstairs, alone. So Evan just goes with it.</p><p>It’s on one of these nights when Jared, Alana, and Zoe have prior engagements and Connor decides to stay over when the inevitable happens. Except at the time, Evan had no idea that it was inevitable.</p><p>It begins when Evan is sitting on his bed, and Connor is stretched out on the floor, and they’re talking about nothing, really. They talk about nothing a lot. Like, Connor will tell Evan about this new book he’s reading, or weird facts that he’s memorized, like how flamingos can only eat if their head is upside-down, or how George Washington’s teeth weren’t made of wood, as it’s widely assumed, but actually of elephant ivory and walrus tusk. Evan talks a lot about old movies and tv shows, and he only recently started telling Connor about trees (after Zoe’s reaction, he was afraid Connor would think his love of trees just as weird. But Connor understood. Connor always understands.) And as much as they talk about nothing, they also talk about <em>something</em>. They talk about mental health, asking how therapy is going, and check in on each other’s emotions periodically. And it’s when they start talking about <em>something</em> that Evan’s troubles really begin.</p><p>“So how are things with Zoe?” Connor asks casually. “Are you still having trouble… connecting? With her?”</p><p>Evan lets out an uncomfortable laugh. “I guess, yeah.”</p><p>Connor sits up. “I’ve noticed that when we all hang out together, and when I see the two of you together at school. You just seem so unnatural around her. I mean, you rarely hold hands or even sit closer than two feet apart. I can’t even remember the last time I saw the two of you kiss.”</p><p>Evan rubs his neck. “Yeah. I – I think that’s one of my problems. Our problems, I guess. The kissing, I mean.” Evan lets out a sheepish laugh. “I don’t think I’m all that good at it, to be honest.”</p><p>Connor smiles. "I'm sure you're fine."</p><p>Evan shakes his head a bit. "It's just... you know, in, like, movies and stuff? Like, boy meets girl... the kiss is the climax or whatever. The whole story builds up to when they can finally be together, and it's that first kiss that's supposed to be, ya know... magical or whatever, you know?" Evan slips his hands through his hair nervously, looking anywhere but at Connor, because Zoe is Connor's <em>sister</em>, for Pete's sake. "And like, yeah, I know it's just a movie and it's not real, but like, you expect it to be based in some sort of fact, right? Except I've never had that magical kiss? So I think it's me? Zoe seems fine, like she's... satisfied, or whatever. I'm just... I-I dunno, I'm doing something wrong, probably." Evan thinks for a moment. "Zoe was the first person I kissed, so, like, I don't have a lot to go on, you know?"</p><p>Connor watches him as he speaks, legs criss-crossed, elbows on his knees, and chin in his hands. "Yeah, that sucks man. I dunno know to tell you."</p><p>Evan picks a spot along his shirt hem and rubs it between his thumb and forefinger. "Have you ever been kissed? Like that, I mean."</p><p>Connor contemplates momentarily, scratching his cheek. "I mean, yeah, but also no? I've only kissed one person before. It was nice, but it wasn't magical or anything. It's probably only magical when you kiss the person you love, like truly love. At least, that's what I think."</p><p>When Connor mentions kissing someone in the past, something small burns in Evan's stomach. He doesn't like the feeling - he's never experienced something like it before. Maybe it's indigestion? Either way, Evan kind of wants to know more about this girl that Connor's kissed. What's her name? Where did they meet? Where is she now? He opens his mouth to ask, but then thinks better of it. He doesn't want to pry into something private. On the topic of love, Evan feels his ears burn. "I'm - I, I don't <em>not</em> love Zoe. I mean, I think it's a little early to know if I love her. I <em>like </em>her, I'm pretty sure."</p><p>"You're <em>'pretty sure'</em>?"</p><p>"I - I mean, I'm sure. I like her." Evan huffs miserably and hides his face in his hands. "It shouldn't be this hard, right?"</p><p>Connor's quiet. Evan peaks between two of his fingers to see Connor stand and join him on the bed. "Honestly? I don't know. Maybe you're just overthinking this whole thing. Don't think. Just do."</p><p>Evan laughs miserably. "I can't not think. My brain is hardwired to overthink everything. I can't kiss someone without thinking about it."</p><p>“I could teach you.”</p><p>Evan jolts and glances at Connor, who stares into the palms of his hands. “Psh, how? What?”</p><p>“A hands-on experience, obviously.” Connor looks up and leans closer to Evan. He reaches out to grip Evan's chin gently and pull him in.</p><p>Evan, of course, blushes so fiercely he’s pretty sure the top of his head is steaming from the heat in his face. Quickly stumbling away from Connor’s hold, he laughs nervously. “N-no. You’re, we’re… guys. Guys don’t do… that. Kissing?” Evan rubs his hands together. What is Connor thinking, offering to kiss him all of a sudden? Where is this coming from?</p><p>Connor smirks and follows Evan as he slowly backs away. “Gay guys do.”</p><p>Evan splutters, “But we’re not g-gay. I’m not. Wait. Are, are you…?” Evan tries to think. Has Connor ever talked about girls? Yes, surely he has. He only just told Evan that he'd kissed a girl before, right? He did say it was a girl, Evan's pretty sure. But the longer Evan tries to think about it, the less sure he is.</p><p>Connor backs Evan against his desk. Evan lets out a little whimper when the small of his back suddenly hits a hard surface, and Connor blushes, but from the accusation or the noise Evan makes, Evan’s not sure. “I don’t see why that has to matter.” Connor is pressed up against Evan now, and Evan can smell the cigarettes and cologne on his skin. It’s a warm and musky scent, and it makes Evan think of cold winter nights sitting next to a fire.</p><p>Is this really going to happen? Is Connor going to kiss him? Does he <em>want</em> Connor to kiss him? Evan’s stomach is in knots; he’s nervous, but he’s also… excited? No. That doesn’t make sense.</p><p>Evan doesn’t know why his body is reacting the way it is, but he knows he has to put a stop to it. As Connor places his hands on Evan’s hips and begins to lean in, Evan nearly shouts, “Wait!”</p><p>Connor, thank god, pauses. “What?”</p><p>“It’s just… I wanted… Isn’t this, um, like. Adultery? Or something?”</p><p>“Adultery?” Connor gives Evan an amused look.</p><p>“You know… because of Zoe?”</p><p>Connor frowns a bit at the mention of his sister. “You’re not married.”</p><p>“Yeah, but…”</p><p>“Besides, aren’t we doing this to help your relationship with her? This is just… a friend kiss. It doesn’t matter.” Connor puts one hand on the back of Evan’s neck and plays with a bit of his hair.</p><p>Is this true? Evan doesn’t know. He’s never had a girlfriend before. And he’s certainly never had a friendship like his and Connor’s. But Evan’s not sure he cares anymore because his brain short-circuits when Connor puts his fingers in Evan’s hair, and he gives in when Connor pulls him close again.</p><p>Evan closes his eyes and leans in. Their lips touch, Evan’s rough and bitten ones against Connor’s full and velvety ones, and Evan feels a chill go down his spine. A nice chill.</p><p>Connor starts off slowly and gently, giving Evan a sequence of soft kisses. Evan doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do with his hands, so he settles on putting them on either side of Connor’s head. As soon as he does it, he knows it’s wrong and awkward; he’s never seen anyone kiss like that in the movies, but Connor doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, Evan forgets his awkwardness pretty quickly because kissing Connor is just so… nice.</p><p>Evan doesn’t feel scared and shaky like he usually does with Zoe. Like, he did at first, but pretty soon he feels calm and contented. Kissing Connor feels like how Evan thought kissing Zoe would feel.</p><p>But almost as soon as Evan settles into it and the two get into a rhythm, Connor’s tongue prods Evan’s lips.</p><p>Evan’s eyes shoot open, and he pushes Connor away. This is uncharted territory; he hasn’t even gotten this far with Zoe.</p><p>Connor looks a little shocked at the abrupt end. “What was that for?”</p><p>Evan is panting, his cheeks a bit pink. “I don’t, um. Haven’t done that… before.” He doesn’t look at Connor, instead choosing to conduct a thorough examination of his shoes.</p><p>“Was it bad?”</p><p>Evan’s cheeks burn even brighter. He turns around so that Connor can’t see his face. His heart is beating, going as fast as a bullet train, he’s sure. He busies himself with sorting through the homework on his desk. “N-no. It was nice.”</p><p>“Then why’d you push me away?”</p><p>Evan is quiet for a moment. He shuffles and reorganizes the same papers four times. “…was scared,” he finally manages to mumble.</p><p>Evan feels Connor’s hand on his shoulder and turns around. “You don’t have to be. I’m not gonna hurt you, Ev,” Connor gives him a little smile.</p><p>And for some reason, Evan believes him. And for some reason, Evan closes the gap between them and pulls Connor down to meet his lips. They resume their kiss, but it’s hungrier and more impatient this time. And this time, when Connor prods at Evan’s mouth with his tongue, Evan lets him slip in and… he likes it.</p><p>“Mmh,” Evan moans. He wraps his arms around Connor’s neck and pulls him down closer because Connor has a good nine inches on him, at least.</p><p>Connor is patient, slowly teaching Evan what to do with his tongue. Pretty soon, Evan is mimicking his movements, and damn, it just feels so right. He runs his fingers through Connor’s hair because he’s seen people do that before, and Connor speeds up the kiss again, clearly enjoying himself. He slips his hands under Evan's polo shirt, slowly sliding them up his back, caressing his spine. Evan doesn’t even realize he’s starting to get hard until he hears Connor moan, and Evan’s pants feel just a little too tight.</p><p>Connor slows the kiss and starts pulling away. Evan follows his lips until he can’t reach them anymore. When Evan opens his eyes, he touches his lips; they’re nearly numb from so much use. He looks up at Connor, who’s lusty eyes and reddened lips make Evan gulp.</p><p>They’re both panting a bit and still holding on to each other. Evan’s pretty sure that if Connor let him go, his knees would give out.</p><p>“Not bad, Hansen.”</p><p>Evan lets out a small laugh. But their post make-out bliss only lasts a moment because Evan suddenly becomes painfully aware of his hard on, which surely Connor can feel, even if it’s only half erect, because of how close their bodies are pressed against each other.</p><p>Evan pulls away quickly, nearly tripping over his own feet. Looking down, he realizes that his erection is very visible. Blushing like mad, he grabs some of the papers he was previously shuffling and covers his groin, trying to be discreet but failing miserably.</p><p>Connor smirks. “Not bad at all.”</p><p>Evan doesn’t know what to say, or even what to do because it’s right then that he realizes he’s never had a proper erection before. He recalls Dr. Sherman telling him a side effect of his medications would be a lack of sexual appetite. He also recalls not being able to look Dr. Sherman in the eye for weeks after they’d had that conversation.</p><p>So Evan has no idea what to do with this thing trying to poke its way out of his pants.</p><p>But then he hears a door slam downstairs and his mom calling his name. And that’s when he realizes that moms are very good at making erections go away.</p><p>“Evan? Are you here? I saw Connor’s car parked outside.”</p><p>Evan, relieved that his pants are no longer forming a tent, calls down, “Yeah, Mom, we’re coming!”</p><p>Connor gives Evan a knowing smile and says, “You wish,” before following him out of the room.</p><p>It was only hours later, after an awkward dinner with Connor and his mom that seemed to go on forever, after they traipsed back upstairs to get ready for bed where Evan received a playful punch on the arm like nothing had happened between them, after he was safely tucked into his bed that Evan realized the subtle sex joke Connor had made. And that was enough to make him blush for the rest of the night.</p><p>–</p><p>Evan considers himself pretty skilled at kissing, now. After all, Connor seemed pretty pleased with his work the other night, and if Evan knows how to kiss well with a guy, then a girl should be no different. Right?</p><p>They have plans to see a movie after school. <em>Hail, Caesar!</em> had been the perfect choice at the time. Evan wanted to see it because of the plot being based, albeit loosely, on the life of Eddie Mannix, a prominent figure in the world of Hollywood in the 1950’s. And of course, Evan likes a lot of movies that came out in the 50’s. Billy Wilder’s <em>Sunset Boulevard</em>, for example, came out in the 1950’s. So did <em>Singin’ in the Rain</em>, with Gene Kelly and Debbie Reynolds. Classics. These names didn’t mean much to Zoe, who thinks maybe she’s heard of Debbie Reynolds, but only because she has some relation to Carrie Fischer. Zoe, on the other hand, was excited to see it because of its genre; she loves a good comedy with a little bit of mystery mixed in. She’d also told Evan that it has some great actors in it, like George Clooney, Scarlett Johansson, and Tilda Swinton. These names didn’t mean much to Evan. Except for George Clooney.</p><p>Now, Evan kind of wishes they’d picked a different movie. One that he hadn’t been wanting to see, because now he can’t focus on the film. The lights go down, and Zoe slides her fingers between Evan’s. Evan’s not an idiot, he knows what’s coming. He’s seen the movies.</p><p>Except it doesn’t come. Zoe is content with watching the movie and holding hands, and that’s it. She’s completely oblivious to the courage that Evan tries to muster up over the next hour and a half. She is completely oblivious to how sweaty Evan’s hand is. Or, maybe she isn’t, but she doesn’t say anything about it. Evan’s grateful for that, at least.</p><p>Evan sits stock still for one-hundred and six minutes. He counts them as they tick by. He grips the chair’s armrest in one hand and hold’s Zoe’s hand in the other. She throws her head back in laughter at various intervals. She glances over to see whether Evan is enjoying the movie as much as she is. He smiles weakly.</p><p>When they leave the theater, Zoe chatters spiritedly about what she did and didn’t like about the film. <em>Do it, Evan</em>, he thinks. <em>Just do it. Don’t think about it.</em></p><p>Evan, for once, listens to his brain. As they pass by the alleyway between the little theater and the pizza parlor, hands linked, Evan pulls her suddenly down the side road, backing himself against the wall and pulling Zoe close into him. Zoe squeaks in surprise, and then lets out a small <em>Oh</em> when she realizes what Evan is doing.</p><p>With Zoe pressed against him, Evan loses his train of thought. He should’ve planned this out more thoroughly. He tries to remember what Connor did when he pressed Evan up against the desk… Oh dear. Evan slams his eyes shut and just goes for it. He tries to imagine he’s in his room with Connor, trying to remember and mimic what happened with him. Zoe seems to be matching his enthusiasm. She tastes like popcorn.</p><p>Evan does what he’d practiced. He prods at Zoe’s mouth, and when their tongues touch, Evan recoils a bit, shocked or uneasy, he’s not sure. And it’s just so… bad. He can’t think of another word for it. It’s just bad. It’s awkward and wet, and they just don’t seem to meld like he and Connor did. <em>Stop thinking about Connor</em>. Their front teeth scrape bump into the other’s, Zoe accidentally bites his tongue (he tries to ignore the pain because he doesn’t want to embarrass her), and Evan’s anxiety just keeps getting worse and worse. <em>Keep going. It has to get better. We just need practice</em>.</p><p>It doesn’t get better.</p><p>Finally, Evan pulls away under the guise of needing to clear his throat. Zoe’s lips are reddened, but there’s no want or need in her eyes. She doesn’t blush. Evan begins to think that maybe she thought it was just as bad as he did.</p><p>“Um, wow,” she tries.</p><p>Evan wipes his mouth and bites his lip. “I just thought… I just wanted to… um, I-I-I felt like, maybe felt like, like, maybe because we’ve been dating for, now for so long, for like five months, but like, we’ve hardly, uh, been, um, inti – uh, intimate. But I just, um, I don’t think, may-maybe we just need to –” Evan’s stammering just keeps getting worse.</p><p>Zoe saves him. “It’s fine, Evan,” she gives his arm a comforting squeeze. “I guess, yeah, I guess you’re right, like, we’ve been dating for a while now, I guess it’s natural to become more, um, <em>intimate</em>.” The way she says “intimate” makes Evan’s ears go pink. Surely she isn’t talking about… <em>that</em>, right? Because Evan doesn’t think he’s quite ready for <em>that</em>, he’d only wanted to kiss, because maybe kissing would help their waning relationship. Besides, he’s eighteen, and she’s only seventeen, so he’d be… doing <em>that</em> with a minor, technically, which he’s pretty sure that’s illegal.</p><p>Evan’s eyes widen. “Right,” is all he can manage.</p><p>“Okay,” she breathes.</p><p>“Okay,” he repeats, his voice slightly strangled.</p><p>She purses her lips and takes a step back. Her eyes dart downward, and she asks if Evan’s ready to go home. Evan’s head stutters a nod. She offers her hand, and he gratefully takes it, not sure that his legs will move of their own accord without a little persuasion.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I fucking lost it when I wrote about Evan debating the legality of sleeping with his “minor” girlfriend. He’s such a fucking idiot I just ahhhhhhh I crack myself up sometimes.</p><p>A fun fact about me: my first kiss was in kindergarten, on the bus to school. It was very quick, and I was scolded afterwards for instigating it, but I often think of it fondly. My first real kiss was at sixteen, on the bleachers during a high school football game (why does that sound so Hollywood omg). I’d been dating my then-boyfriend for about a week at the time, and he was more experienced than me. When he leaned in, I squeezed my eyes shut and puckered my lips, as you do. Except his eyes were closed, too, and he went for an open-mouth kiss. It was very awkward and a bit… wet. Needless to say, I do not look back on that kiss fondly. Serious cringe. I kind of imagine that’s what it’s like whenever Evan and Zoe kiss, out of sync and unpleasantly new. Honestly their kissing scene was so painful for me to get out.</p><p>Happy Valentine's Day! Here's hoping that kissing your loved ones isn't as terrible as it is for Evan and Zoe!! :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. How to Break Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>PEOPLE 👏 WHO 👏 ARE 👏 ACE 👏 AND/OR 👏 ARO 👏 ARE 👏 VALID 👏 AND 👏 IMPORTANT 👏 Honestly I’ve been so worried about this chapter because I really want to portray Zoe’s sexuality accurately, but I have absolutely no life-knowledge about what it’s like to be an aromantic. I did a bunch of research, watching videos and reading articles and books, so hopefully I can do the aromantic community justice. I’m a very very alloromantic person, so it’s a bit difficult for me to imagine being an aromantic, and therefore I feel like I don’t totally understand it. But for some reason, I felt really strongly about Zoe being an aromantic, so even with my limited knowledge I decided to write her as such. If you are an aromantic and you feel comfortable sharing, please tell me about yourself in the comments! I’d love to become less ignorant about the different members of the LGBTQIA+ community, because WE ARE ALL VALID AND IMPORTANT!! Besides this chapter, there’s really very little about Zoe being an aromantic in this fic, but if I portray Zoe incorrectly, I am truly sorry and please tell me off. </p><p>I apologize to Ms. Magnuson, Mr. Wootton, and Mr. Davis for stealing their names and respective teaching positions for this story. Not that I expect any of them will ever read this, but I’m truly terrible with coming up with fictional names. Yikes.</p><p>Chapter warnings: angst, break ups, swearing, with a pinch of identity crisis</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next morning, Evan realizes he has to break up with Zoe because of Connor. Well, sort of because of Connor. Because Evan thinks about how amazing kissing Connor was, and kissing Zoe isn’t half as good. And even though Evan doesn’t really want to unpack that confusing thought right now – or ever, really - nor does he even want to even begin to think about possibly being aroused by <em>Connor</em>, a <em>guy</em>, he knows it’s over with him and Zoe. Or rather, it never really was to begin with. And the sooner he tells her, the better. His biggest problem right now is figuring out <em>how</em> to tell her.</p><p>Which is why he isn’t very present at school today. He isn’t very present when Ms. Magnuson calls on him to find the answer to the chemical equation on the board; he isn’t very present when Mr. Wootton explains that it was King Croesus who defeated Cyrus the Great, thus merging the Lydian territories with the Persian Empire; he isn’t very present when Mr. Davis tells the class to mark their calendars because they have a unit test coming up; and he isn’t very present at lunch when Alana starts talking to him.</p><p>“– can’t believe we’re expected to memorize a whole Spanish presentation, prepare for Davis’ test, AND turn in our essays on <em>The Grapes of Wrath</em> all next week. I mean, college acceptance letters are coming soon. Don’t they know I’m already stressed out enough? I just know I won’t get into any of the colleges I’ve applied for. Harvard? Not a chance. Princeton? They’re laughing at my application right now, I can feel it. And I applied to Yale as a joke, but I bet I won’t even get accepted there!”</p><p>“Alana, would you <em>shut up</em>.”</p><p>Alana scoffs at Jared, who stabs at his lunch with his fork. She stops talking about colleges, but she doesn’t shut up completely, just to spite Jared. “Evan, you’ve been really quiet all day. Like, more than usual. Everything good?”</p><p>Evan is resting is chin in his palm, pushing around the mystery meat on his tray. How is he going to break it to Zoe? It’s not like they’re extremely close, nor does he think she’s in love with him or anything, so it shouldn’t be that hard, right? Maybe he could go with the classic, <em>It’s me, not you</em>, and just hope that she doesn’t realize what a cliché line that is. Maybe he could twist it a bit and say, <em>It’s you, not me</em>. Nah. That’d just be mean. He doesn’t hear Alana, so Connor nudges him.</p><p>“Hm?” Evan looks at Connor, who points to Alana.</p><p>“Are you okay, Evan?”</p><p>Evan turns to Alana. “Oh, yeah. Fine. Just, preoccupied.”</p><p>Alana nods. “Well, of course. We’re all dealing with the stress of homework and classes and college, not to mention that senioritis should be kicking in soon –”</p><p>“Soon? More like, it kicked in the moment I walked through those doors as a freshman,” Jared scowls. Alana, wisely, ignores him.</p><p>“No, it’s not that.”</p><p>Alana and Jared stop their bickering to look at Evan. Evan can feel Connor tense beside him, though he’s not sure what that’s about. “Well then, what is it?” Jared asks, possibly being considerate for the first time in his life.</p><p>Evan looks at his plate and mumbles, “I think I have to break up with Zoe.”</p><p>“WHAT?” Alana shouts, and Evan frantically motions for her to pipe down as a few students from other tables peer over at their group. “But why? You guys are like, so good together! You’re such a cute couple!”</p><p>Jared, on the other hand, reaches over to clap Evan’s shoulder. “I’m glad you finally came to your senses. I knew you missed being a bachelor like me.”</p><p>Connor, amazingly, doesn’t say anything. Evan watches him, but Connor just continues to eat his lunch, looking off into the distance like he couldn’t care less about Evan and Zoe. Like he couldn’t care less about Evan.</p><p>Which kind of pisses Evan off. He feels an anger starting to bubble up, and his heart beats a little faster with the adrenaline. After all, Connor’s, like, his best friend, Evan guesses. Evan feels closer with Connor than he does with Jared, at least. Especially after the other night. You’d think the guy would show a little compassion.</p><p>“Evan, why are you breaking up with Zoe?”</p><p>Evan looks back at Alana and sees actual sorrow in her eyes, which calms the irritable monster in his chest. At least <em>someone</em> cares. “I just don’t feel like we’re very compatible,” he explains.</p><p>“Is it anything specific? Maybe you’re just having a rough patch,” Alana tries to be helpful.</p><p>“No, it’s everything. I’ve kind of felt this way the whole time we’ve been dating. I… don’t want to lead her on anymore.”</p><p>Alana thinks for a moment, then nods. “Okay,” she says, as if Evan needed her permission to break up with his girlfriend.</p><p>“Ah, the successful sound of another man joining the brotherhood of bachelorship,” Jared raises his fork in the air like in a toast.</p><p>Alana rolls her eyes. “Makes sense. You don’t have the capacity to understand what love is.”</p><p>Jared mocks astonishment and places his hand on his chest, “Not true! Why, not too long ago I was telling Evan about a lovely young lady at the gym I go to.”</p><p>This time Evan rolls his eyes. But Alana is intrigued, “Really? What do you like about her?”</p><p>Evan almost feels sorry for Alana, because of course Jared replies with a boyish grin, “Her voluptuous bosom.”</p><p>“You’re revolting,” Alana sneers, to which Jared winks and says, “Thank you. I do try.”</p><p>Alana shakes her head and refocuses her attention elsewhere, namely Connor. “What about you, Connor?”</p><p>“What <em>about</em> me,” Connor says humorlessly.</p><p>“Have you ever loved someone?”</p><p>Jared replies for Connor, “Probably not, since he spends all his time with Evan.”</p><p>Connor leers at Jared and says, “’I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago, I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.’”</p><p>“What the fuck.”</p><p>“Ooooh, <em>Pride and Prejudice</em>, right?” Alana’s eyes widen. Connor looks down at his lunch and gives a small nod. “That’s my favorite! Well, that and <em>Romeo and Juliet</em>.” Evan nearly rolls his eyes again; of course, the two sappiest love stories they’ve been forced to read in high school are Alana’s favorite books. She’s such a romantic.</p><p>“<em>Pride and Prejudice</em>?” Jared asks incredulously. “What are you, like, professing your love for me or some shit?” At which point, Evan drops his fork and has to retrieve it from underneath the table.</p><p>Connor glares at Jared. “Don’t you have to be stupid somewhere else?”</p><p>“Not until four o’clock,” Jared smirks.</p><p>Alana tries to calm the mess she’s created, “Well, I’ve never been in love. But I can’t wait until I do. People make fun sometimes because I’m so, well, focused on school. And I’m focused on school because I want to have a good career. But I’m still a girl. I think about getting married and having kids someday, too.”</p><p>Jared pulls a face, “Yuckh. I, for one, plan to never get roped into a government-binding relationship.”</p><p>“You just wait, Jared Kleinman. I bet you’ll meet a wonderful girl and fall in love, and you’ll be so excited to start a family with her.” Alana pokes Jared’s arm several times as she says this, teasing him slightly.</p><p>“Ugh, didn’t I tell you to shut up?”</p><p>–</p><p>When the final bell finally rings, Evan’s stomach is in knots. He meets Zoe outside of her last class of the day, and the bright smile she gives him does nothing to ease the tension. “Hi, Evan!”</p><p>“Hello,” Evan manages to give her a feeble grimace. “Can we talk?”</p><p>“Sure! Jazz band is cancelled today, anyway. Mrs. Burns is out sick. Wanna come to my house?”</p><p>Evan supposes that’s a good idea. “Sure.”</p><p>They walk to Zoe’s VW, and as they climb in, Evan remembers something. “You’re parents… Are they home?”</p><p>Zoe puts the car in drive. “No. Dad’s at work until six, and Mom is out of town this week visiting Grandma.”</p><p>Evan nods, relieved. If things get dicey, he doesn’t want Mr. and Mrs. Murphy to walk in on them shouting at each other.</p><p>He hopes it doesn’t come to that.</p><p>Evan doesn’t say much on the drive. Mostly he just swallows down a lot of saliva. Zoe talks animatedly about her test in History, which she thought she totally flunked but ended up getting a B+ on. Evan just nods some more.</p><p>When they pull into the driveway, Evan can feel his hands sweating and his chest tightening, and by God he just wants to get it over with already.</p><p>But when they walk in, Zoe has to take off her shoes and coat and put her backpack away. Then she has to turn on the heater and tells Evan she’ll be “right back” because she wants to put on her comfy socks and slippers. And when she returns downstairs and sees Evan still standing in the doorway, she laughs and motions him in. “Do you want anything? A drink?”</p><p>“N-no, I’m fine.”</p><p>“Tea? Cocoa? Water?”</p><p>“Really, I’m good.”</p><p>“How about a snack?”</p><p>“No, really –”</p><p>“Ohhh, we’ve got brownies! Mom baked them before she left. So they’ve probably got like zucchini in them or something, but they probably still taste good. Let me go –”</p><p>“No, Zoe, I’m- I’m br-breaking up with you!” Evan nearly shouts. He sighs a breath of relief. It’s out. It’s done.</p><p>Or not.</p><p>“You’re breaking up with me?” Zoe asks softly, like she doesn’t quite understand what Evan’s saying.</p><p>Evan flinches, her words piercing his skin like bullets, even though they were his words first. He nods. It’s time to get this over with. “I’m just not… happy with you…” Evan says. But apparently this was the wrong thing to say, because Zoe’s eyes narrow and her expression hardens.</p><p>“<em>Excuse me</em>? You’re <em>not happy with me</em>? What the hell is that supposed to mean Evan?” Evan stares at his shoes, unable to face her anger. “What did I do so wrong, exactly, to make you so unhappy? What could you – hh – How could you say something like that!” She practically screams this last sentence, and Evan winces.</p><p>“That’s not – I didn’t mean –”</p><p>“You didn’t <em>mean</em> to say that? You didn’t <em>mean</em> to upset me? Would you – Look at me when I talk to you!” She shouts, and Evan does as he’s told because it’s the least he can do for this girl and her heart that he’s breaking. Zoe’s eyes are wet with unshed tears, her cheeks are pink, and her face is screwed up in frustration. He didn’t think it was going to be this hard. He didn’t think Zoe would particularly care. “What the fuck is your problem, Hansen? I thought –” Her voice breaks suddenly. “I thought, I thought you liked me. I thought I was… being the perfect girlfriend.”</p><p>And Zoe’s face goes from angry to confused to sad all in a second, and Evan can’t stand to see her sad. She’s still his friend, after all. “Of course I like you. I… I care about you so much. But I think… I don’t feel for you what I should feel for you.”</p><p>Zoe’s tears spill over, but she looks a little shocked when Evan says this. “You don’t?”</p><p>Evan shakes his head and looks back at his shoes out of habit. It’s silent for a moment, before Evan says quietly, “I don’t think I ever did.” Zoe sniffles, and Evan continues. “I think I, I-I think I built you up in my head as this… inhuman… being. And Zoe, you’re amazing, don’t, don’t get me wrong, I’m so, lucky to know you. But, you’re not what I… expected. Or, at least, our relationship, dating you, it wasn’t as perfect as I, as I thought it would be. I mean, we har-hardly ever spend time together –”</p><p>“I was giving you space!” Zoe cries, and then more softly, “Sorry. I just… I thought that’s what you wanted. You were always so distant when we were together… I thought you just liked your space.”</p><p>Evan reaches out and pats her shoulder awkwardly. “I did! Do. I do. But I never even particularly wanted to spend time with you. Alone, that is. You’re a lot of fun to be around, I think, I think I mostly think of you as a friend.” Evan pauses here, checking to see how Zoe might react to his next words. “Being, uh, intimate with you felt, um, more like a, like a chore? Than anything, just because I wasn’t particularly interested.” Zoe looks angry again, so Evan quickly placates her, “And maybe that’s – Maybe that’s my fault! But I think…” Evan chooses his words carefully and looks her in the eye, “I think you knew that. And I, I think you understand that. Because, and-and I’m not trying to be rude or anything, but. I think you never felt that way, the way you were supposed to feel, either. About me.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Well, think about it, um. You-you tried to be the perfect girlfriend, but… You shouldn’t have to try so hard to make something good. It should come easier than that, right? Sure, there are, um, ups and downs in any relationship, but…” Evan trails off here, not sure where he was going with this sentence because frankly, he doesn’t know anything about normal relationships. “I mean, did it ever feel real to you? Did you ever feel like… like you could see us being together forever? Did you ever daydream? About, like, marrying me? Or-or think about me more than, like, twice a day? Because I think – well I don’t, I don’t know, because I’ve never been in love – but I think that’s kind of what love is. Or at least, at its most basic level.”</p><p>Zoe thinks for a moment before shaking her head. “I guess I don’t.” She’s still crying a bit, but at least she’s calm now. Or at least shocked into surrender. “I never… I don’t think I ever even <em>liked</em> you that way,” she seems to realize. “Not even in the beginning. Not to say that you’re not worth feeling that way for,” she says kindly, and Evan smiles a bit at the compliment. “But I don’t think I’ve ever felt like that with anyone.” Her eyes widen a bit and she looks at Evan with a sudden fear. “Evan… what’s wrong with me? I’ve never loved anyone like, like normal people do. Like my friends, with their boyfriends and girlfriends, I just thought that they had the same problems that we do. With love, I mean. I thought love was supposed to be that way. I mean, I-I love my parents, but, that’s different. I asked you out because I thought that’s what I was supposed to do, because I felt happy when you were around, I thought that was love, but…What if… What if I can’t… love people the way I’m supposed to?”</p><p>Her tears are pouring hard again, and Evan can’t stand it anymore. So even though he’s kind of afraid of intimacy, he approaches this beautiful, wonderful girl who, once upon a time, he thought he might love, and he pulls her close. And he hugs her tightly. “There’s nothing wrong with you,” he mumbles.</p><p>Zoe sniffles and hiccups into Evan’s chest, and Evan loses track of how long they hold each other. He whispers senselessly into her hair that everything will be okay, and how he’s sure there are other people like her, and that she doesn’t have to love someone or be in a relationship to be happy. He doesn’t really know what he’s talking about, but it seems to help. And when they pull apart, Zoe’s eyes are red and still a little wet. “Thanks, I – I feel a little better,” she whispers. Then she gives him a watery smile and pulls away. “You know, I’m gonna miss you, Evan Hansen.”</p><p>And Evan smiles and tears up a bit too, because he knows what she means. The ending of any relationship, even if it’s amicable, is bittersweet. Despite the relief he feels from not having to play the role of “boyfriend” anymore, he’ll miss the pleasure of belonging to someone. “Me too, Zoe Murphy,” which makes her smile a little wider. “Friends?”</p><p>She nods. “Friends. I promise.”</p><p>They stand there a little awkwardly for a moment until Evan splutters about getting home, and Zoe mutters something about homework. She offers to drive him home, but Evan decides that’d be just a little too weird. So he picks up his backpack and begins his walk. And all in all, as Evan walks, he thinks to himself that as far as first break-ups go, it could have been a lot worse. And once the Murphy house is out of sight, he feels a bit like some of the bricks that were weighing him down before have flown away.</p><p>That is, until he sees Connor’s car in his driveway. And Connor, who’s sitting on the hood, smoking a cigarette.</p><p>“Shit,” Evan says under his breath as Connor turns to him. “It’s Thursday.”</p><p>“Yeah, it’s Thursday. Where the fuck have you been?”</p><p>Evan rubs his face. “I was with… Zoe. I’m-I’m sorry, can we do this tomorrow? I’m just. Worn out.”</p><p>Connor throws his cigarette butt on the ground and turns away. “Fine,” he says, sliding off the hood and opening the car door.</p><p>Evan feels that anger bubbling up in his chest again, and he doesn’t know where it’s coming from or why he feels this way, but suddenly the relief he felt on his walk home has evaporated, and he’s furious. And he can’t keep it in. He doesn’t <em>want </em>to keep it in. “'<em>Fine?</em> '” He spits, and Connor looks up at him, slightly surprised. “Don’t you want to know how it went? I just broke up with your sister. Don’t you care?”</p><p>Connor turns his face to the descending sun. It’s February, and the sun sets around four o’clock in the afternoon now, if the sun even bothers to come out during the day. “Honestly?” Connor looks back at Evan, “It’s not really any of my business.”</p><p>And just like that, Evan deflates. And Connor gets into his car. Evan doesn’t watch him leave. He’s still mad. Because sure, it might not be any of Connor’s business, but Evan wants him to care. But why the hell does he care if Connor cares? Evan shakes his head. Who cares if Connor cares? Evan huffs angrily and marches into his house, slamming the front door behind him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And that marks the beginning of the angsty teenage chapters, sorry.</p><p>So, Connor’s quote in this chapter is from Pride and Prejudice, and anyone who’s read it knows it’s from when Mr. Darcy is proclaiming his love to Elizabeth Bennet. I think Connor’s use of it in this chapter has a double entedre: it could be a confession to loving Evan, or Connor could also be telling Jared how annoying he is. Connor cannot fix upon the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid foundation for the blight in Connor’s life that is Jared.</p><p>Only Connor would use an obscure quote to tell Jared to fuck off.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Of College, Kissing, and Baseball</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>how is this chapter so long</p><p>Chapter warnings: body negativity/toxic self-criticism, mentions of therapy and medication, swearing, internalized homophobia (if you squint)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On Friday, Evan wakes up to his alarm clock piercing the room with a shrill ring at six-thirty in the morning. He groans and slaps the OFF button. It’s a four-day weekend, and he forgot to turn off his alarm last night. He turns over, fully intending to go back to sleep, when his mom comes bounding into his room.</p><p>“Get up, sleepyhead!” She says brightly.</p><p>Evan pulls his pillow over his head and, muffled, he says, “No school.”</p><p>“I know that, hun. But you got a letter from the City College of New York yesterday! I guess you didn’t see it in the mail, and you were already asleep when I got home, which is weird ‘cause I got home early last night –”</p><p>“Mom,” Evan, exasperated, comes out from underneath his pillow. “If I open the letter, will you let me go back to sleep?”</p><p>Heidi nods excitedly and hands him the envelope. Evan opens it and rubs the sleep from his eyes. “’It is with great pleasure that I offer you admission to the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences at the City College of New York for the Fall 2016 semester.’” Evan barely gets the words out before Heidi begins clapping and yelling ecstatically.</p><p>“You’re in! I knew you could do it!”</p><p>Evan feels a little numb. “I can’t believe it.”</p><p>“Oh, hun, I’m so proud of you,” she sits on Evan’s bed and gives him a squeeze. “You’re gonna be so great. I just know it. College is gonna be so great for you.”</p><p>Evan panics suddenly. “Can we even afford it?”</p><p>“We’ll make it work,” Heidi puts on a brave smile. “Scholarships will be rolling in soon, and we can apply for financial aid, and even if we have to take out student loans, it’ll be so worth it. It’ll be worth it just to see you get your degree and find your dream job and oh, Evan, I’m just so proud of you.”</p><p>She’s starting to cry, and Evan can’t stand it. “Mom, come on. Please? Don’t cry.”</p><p>She wipes away a couple of tears and pulls herself together. “I’m so proud of you,” she says again.</p><p>Evan gives her a weak smile. “I know, Mom.”</p><p>Heidi looks at him for a moment longer and then checks her watch. “Oh, shoot. Evan, honey, I’ve got to run, but my shift is over at eight. Let’s do something special for dinner, yeah?”</p><p>“Sounds good.”</p><p>“It’ll be a celebration!” She says, running out the door. “Love you, hun!”</p><p>“Love you too!” Evan calls after her. He hears the front door slam and her car pull out of the driveway. He looks back down at his acceptance letter, but he still doesn’t quite believe it. Sure, he has decent grades, but it’s not like he’s a spectacular student with loads of extracurricular activities. What do they want <em>him</em> for? Evan’s sure there’s thousands of other applicants who’re far more qualified than him. Does he even belong at university?</p><p>Feeling uneasy, Evan folds the letter and puts it in his nightstand drawer. Best not to think too much about it, he decides. So he rolls over and falls back asleep.</p><p>–</p><p>When Evan wakes up again, it’s to the sound of his phone buzzing. He looks at his clock, which tells him it’s noon. No wonder his stomach is growling. Looking at his phone, he sees a text from Connor. <em>Several</em> texts from Connor.</p><p>
  <em>Connor: r u gonna open the door or do i have to ring the bell 20 more times</em>
</p><p>Evan panics, remembering that he told Connor to come over today to study. He jumps out of bed and throws on some jeans and a t-shirt. He shoots Connor a quick text saying he’ll be down in a minute, and he runs to the bathroom for a very speedy, not-at-all-thorough-but-good-enough-to-mask-his-morning-breath tooth brushing, and hurdles downstairs, three steps at a time. When he throws the door open, he’s breathing hard, and Connor looks him up and down.</p><p>“Hi,” Evan huffs, smoothing his messy bedhead.</p><p>“Your fly is open,” Connor says casually. Evan, embarrassed, zips his pants and motions Connor to come in. “Did you just roll out of bed?” Evan gives a small nod. “And my mom says <em>I</em> sleep too much,” Connor murmurs. He tosses a pizza box on the kitchen table, which Evan gratefully tucks in to.</p><p>Connor takes the seat across from him and pulls out his math notes from this week. Once Evan has a couple slices of pizza in him, he’s slightly more awake. Which means he remembers he’s still kind of pissed at Connor.</p><p>Connor begins pointing out the problems that he struggled with in class, and Evan, begrudgingly, explains the differences between the sine, cosine, and tangent.</p><p>While Connor completes a few practice problems, Evan watches him sternly, glaring at the top of his head. Even Connor’s concentration-eyebrow-furrow, which Evan, once upon a time, thought was endearing, doesn’t budge Evan’s irritation. Which Connor must notice, because he asks, “So, how’s therapy going?”</p><p>“It’s fine,” Evan says tersely. But he softens a bit. Because Evan knows that Connor deserves a little more than just <em>fine</em>. “We’re trying different therapy techniques to find one that, the one that works for me. And. I’m off the Ativan. She presc-prescribed Prozac instead.”</p><p>Connor nods slowly, his eyes still focused on his math problem. “That explains it,” he says absentmindedly.</p><p>Evan narrows his eyes. “That explains what?”</p><p>“Your mood swings.”</p><p>“My – <em>what</em>?”</p><p>Finally, Connor looks up at him. “When you change medication. It can affect your mood until your body gets used to it. That explains why you’ve been so angry the past couple of days.”</p><p>“I’m not <em>angry</em>,” Evan opposes him sourly. Connor raises his eyebrows. Evan purses his lips. “I’m just… frustrated. That’s all.”</p><p>“Frustrated with what?” Connor asks, turning his attention back to the trigonometry.</p><p><em>You</em>, Evan thinks. But he doesn’t say that. He doesn’t want to give Connor the satisfaction of knowing that <em>he’s</em> the reason Evan is so vexed. “What about you? How’s therapy?”</p><p>“S’alright,” Connor answers nonchalantly.</p><p>Evan doesn’t press. They both remain silent for a while, and the only sounds in the kitchen are Connor’s pencil scraping across paper and the tick of the clock on the wall. Evan eats another slice of pizza.</p><p>The quiet gives Evan some time to think. Which, of course he thinks about Connor. But, only because Connor is sitting right in front of him, Evan thinks. Connor asked him about therapy. Which means that Connor cares, right? He cares about Evan’s well-being. Or maybe he was just making conversation. Except, Evan knows that Connor doesn’t talk unless he <em>wants</em> to talk. So Connor must care. But why does he only care about certain things? Why doesn’t he care about Evan’s breakup with Zoe? Shouldn’t he care about that too? Because, well, that kind of concerns Evan’s well-being, too, so, so why should Connor treat it any different than asking about therapy? What the hell is Connor’s problem? And why is this driving Evan so crazy?</p><p>And Evan, by god, it really is starting to drive him crazy. So he does something he would’ve never done a few months ago and blurts, “Why don’t you care about me and Zoe?” He instantly regrets it. Oh god, Evan wishes he could escape into a black hole, or go back in time a few seconds and slap himself.</p><p>Connor looks up, a little surprised, tapping his pencil against his cheek. “What do you mean?”</p><p>Evan can feel his cheeks heat up. He crosses his arms. “I mean, why-why don’t you care that I broke up? With Zoe?” His voice wobbles a bit, unsure.</p><p>Connor squints his eyes. “I already told you. It’s none of my business.”</p><p>Evan’s eyes widen. “But that’s – why – I’m your –” Evan splutters, “You should care! Because, you should care about –” Evan is about to say that Connor should care about Evan, but he stops himself before he can make an even bigger ass out of himself than he already has. “You should care about stuff like that. Because, we’re friends. And. Your friend just broke up with his first girlfriend.”</p><p>Connor concedes. “Well, okay then. How was your breakup?” He asks, tapping the pencil against his lips now.</p><p>Which is very distracting.</p><p>Because Evan’s looking at Connor’s lips.</p><p>Which are. Like. <em>Connor’s Lips</em>.</p><p>So of course Evan’s anger dissolves completely because Evan can’t stop himself from thinking about Connor’s Lips on his a couple of days ago. And how it felt. And how he wants to feel that way again. “I’m… what? Oh, it was. Fine. I guess.” Connor raises his eyebrows again.</p><p>It’s quiet. For about ten minutes, Connor continues his work and Evan watches him, apprehensively, wondering if that time they kissed was a one-time thing. Or if Connor might offer to practice with him again? Except, Connor had said that it was a lesson, for getting better at kissing with Zoe. And since Zoe isn’t in the picture anymore, Connor probably wouldn’t want to kiss Evan just for the hell of it. After all, they’re friends, and both guys, at that. Connor was likely just being nice, trying to help Evan out. Evan was probably the first guy Connor had ever kissed, and Evan bets that Connor was disgusted, because Evan is disgusting. Why would anyone ever want to kiss Evan? He stutters too much, sometimes he can’t get any words out, he sweats a lot, his hair is perpetually messy, he’s rude and coarse sometimes, and he’s not exactly the most athletic tool in the shed. Evan looks down at himself, at this thick, sausage-like fingers and his stomach pouch and his wide thighs and his chubby knees. Evan grimaces and turns his head into his shoulder, sneaking a glance at Connor. Connor, who’s actually beautiful. Connor, who's tall and lean with long hair and fingers that were clearly made for delicate work. Why would someone as beautiful as Connor want to be friends with someone as ugly as Evan? His hands and stomach clench. <em>Shut up</em>, he tells his brain. <em>Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutup…</em></p><p>Evan’s brain doesn’t shut up. Connor doesn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. But why would he? He doesn’t care about Evan, or his problems. Evan squeezes his eyes closed and covers his ears.</p><p>It still doesn’t shut up.</p><p>And now his breath is coming out more labored, and he’s growling. “Shut up,” he says audibly. “Shut up, shut up, shut up!” He digs his fingernails into his scalp.</p><p><em>You’re disgusting</em>, it says. <em>You’re disgusting, and you’re nothing. Zoe didn’t want you. Connor doesn’t want you. Your dad didn’t want you. Your mom only stays because she has to. No one will ever want you. The CCNY doesn’t want you either. The letter they sent wasn’t meant for you. It was a mistake. You’re nothing.</em></p><p>His eyes sting with tears. His nose tingles. <em>You’re nothing</em>.</p><p>“Evan!”</p><p>Evan’s eyes fly open and he gasps. Then he almost tumbles backward off of the chair because of how close Connor Murphy’s face is to his own. “Jesus, Evan, what the fuck is going on?”</p><p>“I’m-I’m-I’m sorry, sorry I-I, just my brain? It wouldn’t, wouldn’t shut up, you know?” When Evan says it out loud, it sounds <em>so stupid.</em> It makes him sound like he’s crazy. Like, hey, guess what! We already knew that you’re a freak, but now we know that you hear voices, too!</p><p>Except, that’s not really what it is. It’s not like the voices are someone else’s, telling him what to do. It’s just him. It’s just his stupid brain.</p><p>Evan can’t look at Connor. He closes his eyes again. “Shit.”</p><p>But then Connor does something astonishing. He pulls Evan’s hands from their death grip on his scalp and laces their fingers together. And yeah, that’s nice, but that’s not the astonishing part.</p><p>“I know,” he says. <em>He knows.</em></p><p>“You know?”</p><p>Connor looks down at their intertwined hands sheepishly. “I mean, I get it. Sometimes, I have to tell my brain to shut up too.” <em>He gets it.</em></p><p>Evan releases a sudden breath of air he hadn’t realized he’s been holding. Connor runs one of his hands through Evan’s hair, and Evan leans into it, thinking Connor is trying to comfort him.</p><p>Except, it becomes apparent that Connor is only checking to make sure Evan hadn’t drawn blood with his fingernails. Evan, embarrassed, recoils from his touch. “Sorry,” he says, though he’s not sure why. “Sorry.”</p><p>“It’s okay, you didn’t do any damage. Just. Next time, tell me, or call me, or something, when your brain won’t shut up. Don’t hurt yourself.”</p><p>Evan bites his lower lip. “’kay.”</p><p>Connor quirks the ends of his mouth and leans up, placing a soft kiss on Evan’s forehead.</p><p>Evan freezes.</p><p>Connor freezes.</p><p>“Shit – I’m sorry, I don’t know why – it just seemed natural, I used to do that to Zoe, when we were little? When she hurt herself. It didn’t mean anything.”</p><p>It didn’t mean anything.</p><p>“Right, no. It’s okay. I get it.” Evan feels his chest sink.</p><p>Connor straightens up, his eyes darting everywhere but to Evan’s face. “Should we… I mean, the math?”</p><p>Evan nods. “Yeah, the math.”</p><p>They don’t talk about the breakup again.</p><p>–</p><p>“Come on, Evan! You’ve got this!”</p><p>Evan, decidedly, does <em>not</em> “got this”, as he completely misses the ball. Again.</p><p>“Eye on the ball, Evan. Remember what I said! Eye on the ball!”</p><p>Oh, Evan is definitely keeping his eyes on the ball. But only so that he knows when to jump out of the way of said ball, which must be traveling at light speed from Mr. Murphy’s mitt to Evan’s bat. Another one is flying towards his face, and Evan swings shakily at thin air, attempting to keep the ball from giving him a concussion.</p><p>“I should’ve had him play T-ball when he was a kid,” Evan hears his mom say titteringly to Mrs. Murphy. He rolls his eyes and narrowly avoids getting hit by another ball Mr. Murphy pitches to him. He yelps.</p><p>This is <em>not</em> fun. Well, it is to a certain degree. The park is fun. Spending time with family and friends is fun. Picnics are fun. Sunny Saturdays in March are fun. Being taught how to play baseball by Mr. Murphy, however, is not fun. Nor is it fun to constantly be worrying about what his mom and Mrs. Murphy are gossiping about in the bleachers a few yards away.</p><p>It’s his own damn fault. Back in December, he’d promised Mr. Murphy to play catch sometime. He did not know that Mr. Murphy would remember his promise, so much so that it seemed like Mr. Murphy must have penned in the occasion in his calendar the very same day that Evan spoke nonchalantly about playing catch. He seems so overly enthused to have someone to play sports with. Not that Evan is remotely sporty. He really hopes that Mr. Murphy doesn’t get it into his head that Evan is his “sport-buddy” now. That would also not be fun.</p><p>“Give him a break, Dad! He’s never played before,” comes Zoe’s attempt at being helpful. However, she only succeeds in embarrassing Evan further. She saunters out of the dugout and places herself behind Evan, reaching around him and guiding his hands to swing through and actually hit a ball. Evan’s seen people do this sort of thing in movies before, like in <em>Ghost</em>, for example, and he thinks it’s much too intimate for two people who are no longer dating. Evan shies away from her touch, but only slightly. He’s not very good at telling people to, well, back off.</p><p>Luckily, Connor, whose been playing catcher this whole time, chooses this moment to shove Zoe playfully. “What was that for, punk?” She smiles through the insult.</p><p>“Get away from me, twerp. Gross,” he smiles back.</p><p>Zoe’s jaw drops a bit, “Oh, you’re asking for it.”</p><p>“Me,” Connor scoffs, “asking for it? I think you’ve forgotten who the older sibling is here. I can have you in a noogie in five seconds flat.”</p><p>“Says the scrawny kid to his sister, who so happens to be able to march and play a heavy instrument at the same time!” She smacks his arm lightly, and he smacks her back.</p><p>“You guys, come one. Quit it!” Mr. Murphy clearly wants to get back to his game. Zoe sticks her tongue out at Connor, a last-ditch attempt at winning their smack-talk argument, if that’s what you might call it. She slides back into the dugout, and Connor resumes his squatting position next to Evan. He gives Connor a grateful nod.</p><p>“She is right, though. Don’t stop midway, you have to swing all the way through.”</p><p>“Since when are you a baseball expert?”</p><p>“You pick up a lot of stuff living with my dad. Unfortunately.”</p><p>Evan motions for Mr. Murphy to pitch a new ball. And as the ball comes barreling down from the pitcher’s mound to the batter’s box, Evan hears Connor say, “Swing, now!” Evan swings, he hears a loud <em>CRACK! </em>as his bat makes contact with the ball, and he makes sure to follow through, completing the swing and watching as the ball flies over Mr. Murphy and into the outfield.</p><p>There’s a small uproar of cheers around him, as his mom, Mrs. Murphy, Zoe, and Connor all yell. “That’s perfect, Evan!” Mr. Murphy calls from the mound. “Let’s do that again, one more time!”</p><p>Evan’s elated at his success, but also a bit shocked and shaky. “Okay Ev, one more ball and maybe he’ll let us eat,” Connor jokes.</p><p>Well, Connor is right. One more ball and Mr. Murphy let them have their picnic, but only because hearing Connor call him “Ev” sends a chill down Evan’s spine, recalling times before when he's heard Connor call him that in a much more breathy and passionate voice, which of course <em>does things</em> to him. Evan doesn’t see the new ball being pitched at light speed toward his head.</p><p>
  <em>CONK.</em>
</p><p>Evan hears a loud noise in his left ear when the ball connects with his helmet. It doesn’t hurt, but the blow is powerful enough to shock Evan into stumbling into Connor, who also trips, and they land hard in the dirt, still slightly muddy from the last night’s rain.</p><p>“Safe!” Connor yells jokingly, but then groans. “Your elbow is sticking into my kidney.”</p><p>“Ah, jeez, sorry!” Evan stands, slightly disoriented as his head sways, but he helps Connor back up anyway.</p><p>“You good?” Connor pulls Evan’s helmet off and checks his head for injury. Connor’s long fingers brush lightly across Evan’s temple and forehead, then through his hair. Evan has to remind himself to breathe.</p><p>“Yeah, it – uh – didn’t’ even hurt. Just, surprised me is all. You know, it was all, <em>bam!</em>, and I was all <em>what!</em>, and, but, I’m fine now.” <em>Shut up shut up shut up.</em> “You?”</p><p>Connor winces. “I’ll probably have a bruise tomorrow, but I’ll live.” Bruise. Evan gave Connor a bruise. Evan imagines Connor’s body covered in bruises, all made my Evan. <em>Oh my god, get your mind out of the gutter.</em></p><p>Evan turns away from Connor, shaking his head to get the images out. He notices Zoe doubling over with laughter in the dugout and Mr. Murphy jogging over to them.</p><p>“Sorry, Evan. I thought you were ready.”</p><p>Evan just nods, not really sure how to respond. He <em>had</em> been ready, before Connor opened his mouth. But he couldn’t exactly tell Mr. Murphy that, especially with Connor right there and his mom and Mrs. Murphy making their way over to them on the field.</p><p>“I bet now you’re glad that I made you wear the helmet, huh?” His mom nudges him playfully.</p><p>“I think that’s as good a place as any to stop and have lunch, yes?” Mrs. Murphy eyes Mr. Murphy, who catches his wife’s glare and concedes. They make their way off the baseball field and closer to the children’s playground, where the picnic tables are. Mrs. Murphy chooses a shaded table along the tree line that’s been placed between the park and the road, and Evan and Mr. Murphy haul the baseball equipment back to the car, bringing back the packed food and ice chest. Evan’s relieved to finally get back to his mom and Mrs. Murphy. He’s been careful to keep an eye on them and an ear in their conversation all day.</p><p>He hadn’t wanted his mom to tag along. But since she knew about Connor and Zoe now, and Mrs. Murphy had asked Evan for the zillionth time to ask his mom over for dinner, and it just so happened that his mom had that Saturday off, he’d seen little excuse not to invite his mom along for their baseball picnic outing.</p><p>He’d worried that they’d get to talking about Evan and Connor and Zoe and somehow figure out that Evan and Connor had been lying about the beginning of their friendship this whole time. He doesn’t necessarily mind if his mom finds out – it’d be a little embarrassing, and he might be scolded for lying, but that would be the worst of it. No, what he really worries about is Mrs. Murphy finding out. Though, now that he thinks about it, he’s not really sure why he’s so worried about Mrs. Murphy finding out the truth. It’s not like it’d be the end of the world, right?</p><p>Except, in Evan’s head, it <em>would</em> be the end of the world. He could just see the look of betrayal on her face. “How could you do something like this? How could you lie to us and give us a false sense of hope that our son was a good kid? That he loved us more than he let on? How could you betray our trust when we’ve shown you nothing but kindness and love and family?” And Zoe, too. All that stuff that Evan said Connor felt about her, back at the hospital, it was all a lie. And she'd know it. And Evan can't hurt her. Not again. They would probably throw him out of their lives, and he wouldn’t be allowed to see Connor anymore, and in turn, their whole lunch group would probably fall apart with Alana contributing to the chasm of hurt expressions that Evan keeps locked in his head and Jared shaking his head disappointedly. Evan’s heart stutters. It hurts just thinking about it.</p><p>So, yeah. Mrs. Murphy is not allowed to find out.</p><p>Evan takes a seat next to Connor and helps Zoe sort through and place out different accompanying foods and utensils. Mr. Murphy had declared that baseball = hot dogs, so he begins heating up the grill that stands next to the picnic table.</p><p>“Mustard,” Zoe says, tossing the bottle to Connor.</p><p>“Mustard,” Connor repeats as he catches it and places it on the table.</p><p>“Ketchup.”</p><p>“Ketchup.”</p><p>“Onions.” A small Tupperware of minced onions is tossed over Evan’s head.</p><p>“Onions.”</p><p>“Relish.”</p><p>“Gross,” Connor retorts, but catches it anyway.</p><p>Evan rummages through the ice in the ice chest, handing bottles of iced tea to his mom and Mrs. Murphy, and digging out the lemonade for the rest of them. Connor tears open the bag of barbecue chips just as Evan hears the sizzle of Mr. Murphy tossing the first hotdogs onto the flaming grill. There’s something so comfortable about how they all go about preparing for lunch; Evan feels like he’s done this a hundred times before, like he’s always been a part of this family, despite having never had a picnic in a park in his life. He doesn’t notice the way his mom seems to be watching him, somewhat dejectedly, or maybe with a twinge of jealousy. He doesn’t notice because he’s distractedly listening to Zoe chatter as Connor casually touches his arm. Evan doesn’t notice a lot of things in this moment, but his mom catches every movement he makes, watching as Evan confidently banters with friends, how he doesn’t seem to shy away from contact, how he steps into the metaphorical sun more than she’s ever seen him do before. Evan doesn’t notice the slight crisis his mom has internally, both feeling a swelling pride for her son who seems to have come into his own, yet also resentful for not being the person with which Evan’s chosen to grow with. For not being the person Evan chooses to smile so relaxedly with. She’s hasn’t seen him smile as casually or as genuinely since he was maybe three or four, before he had to grow up quickly and prematurely in an unrelenting whirlwind of hardships, when he had to realize that maybe the world wasn’t always on his side.</p><p>No, Evan doesn’t notice these things. Instead, he notices the chilly breeze that picks up the scent of the almost-done hotdogs. His mouth waters a bit as he pulls his jacket tighter around him. He also notices the scent of Connor as he wraps an arm around Evan. “Cold?”</p><p>“Just a little,” Evan replies. Connor smells earthy, his usual scent a mixture of musk and spice and smoke, and Evan remembers that his jacket used to smell like that. But by now it’s been through the wash a couple of times and smells more of floral detergent and linen softener than Connor’s more warm and comforting scent. The goosebumps on Evan’s skin recede as Connor rubs his hands up and down his arms.</p><p>Zoe watches them, pulling a face. “Connor, please stop being so gay at the lunch table. I’ll lose my appetite,” Zoe mocks, and Evan flinches a little. Connor releases Evan’s arms and smacks Zoe lightly on the back of her head. “Ow! What was that for?”</p><p>“’If you hide your ignorance, no one will hit you, and you’ll never learn.’” Connor says sagely, turning back to Evan as though he hadn’t just assaulted his sister.</p><p>Mr. Murphy snorts as he places the grilled hotdogs on the table. “Ha! Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451. Nice.”</p><p>Mr. Murphy's comment is ignored by Connor. “Is being friendly considered gay now?” He sneers.</p><p>“It is when you can’t stop touching Evan.”</p><p>Connor pulls his hand away from Evan’s leg, where he’d settled it absentmindedly, like he’d been burned. Evan, embarrassed that this conversation is even taking place, and especially so in front of his mom during their first time together with the Murphys, hides his face in his hands. Connor, in an attempt to pull the focus off of Evan, takes Zoe’s arm and proceeds to slap her with her own hand.</p><p>“Ow, stop it-ahhh!”</p><p>“Stop hitting yourself!”</p><p>“I’m n-not, you are!” <em>Slap</em>.</p><p>Mrs. Murphy extricates Connor and Zoe before they begin a slap-fight. “Okay, that’s enough! I swear, you’d think they were five,” she directs an apologetic face at Heidi. She turns back to Connor and Zoe. “Eat your lunch. Behave yourselves. I shouldn’t have to be telling you that.”</p><p>Zoe rolls her eyes and mutters under her breath. “Connor started it.” Connor kicks her under the table. The exchange, luckily, goes unnoticed by Mrs. Murphy.</p><p>They each go about preparing their hotdogs. Evan goes with the classic mustard and ketchup. Connor chooses ketchup and onions. Zoe piles on some of each topping, adding extra relish. Connor whispers things like “heathen” and “sacrilege” as Zoe spoons the relish onto her hotdog, causing her to laugh and playfully tell him to shut up.</p><p>Evan grins as he bites into his hotdog. The first time he’d witnessed Connor and Zoe bantering with each other, he’d wondered if the constant insults and physical abuses were normal between siblings. Now that he’s more used to it, he enjoys watching them bicker over trivial things, knowing that it’s all in good fun. A couple of weeks earlier, he’d noticed their relationship change from less of a sibling rivalry to more mutual teasing.</p><p>
  <em>There was something different about Connor  that day, and it takes a few minutes for Evan to realize what it is. “Hey, your nails. They’re blue now?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Connor looks at his hands self-consciously. “Um, yeah. Zoe offered to paint them. I thought it’d make a nice change from the black.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“They look good. So, Zoe, huh? Are things better between you guys now?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Connor smiles slightly. “Yeah, I’m working on it. It’s not easy, but… I think she’s realized that I’m trying, so she is, too. We still fight a lot, she gets on my nerves, but we’re having more nice moments. She’s been teaching me to play the ukulele –” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Evan’s eyes widen slightly with excitement, “Oh?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“– but I’m really no good. I, um, helped her out with Shakespeare? They’re reading Hamlet right now, so I just explained some parts to her. We’re just kind of in this limbo where we’re continually doing nice things for each other, but we still struggle when we have to talk to each other for long periods of time.”</em>
</p><p>Now it seems as though they’ve gotten past the awkward silences. Evan’s glad that he was able to help Connor reshape their relationship. He’d originally worried that Connor becoming closer with his sister would mean that Connor wouldn’t need him anymore. He couldn’t believe how selfish it was of him to think that, but it was the truth. Especially after they’d broken up.</p><p>But thankfully, things weren’t even remotely awkward between them after the breakup. In fact, Evan’s found that he likes Friend Zoe way more than he ever liked Girlfriend Zoe. And Connor becoming closer with Zoe only meant that Evan became closer with Zoe as an extension, and now he has the pleasure of participating in their quarrels like an adopted sibling.</p><p>Evan is contented to eat his hot dog and watch Connor and Zoe act increasingly infantile. He laughs when Zoe wipes a bit of relish onto Connor’s hand. Connor, of course, makes a scene and attempts to wipe it back onto Zoe but only fails and gets more relish on himself, somehow. He’s nearly in stitches from hearing Connor’s strangled yelps when he hears his mom say his name.</p><p>“Evan’s actually been accepted at the City College of New York for next year, I’m so excited for him. I just know he’s gonna be so great in college.”</p><p>Evan stops laughing abruptly, feeling a cold sweat begin to form on his brow. He hadn’t thought about college since opening his acceptance letter a few weeks ago. In fact, he’d somehow managed to forget about it completely after stuffing the letter into his bedside table. He hadn’t told anyone about it.</p><p>“Oh, Evan, you didn’t tell us? That’s so wonderful, sweetheart!” Mrs. Murphy gives him a wide smile, and Mr. Murphy claps him on the back.</p><p>“Well done, kid,” he says, and Evan’s pretty sure it’s the most genuine Mr. Murphy has ever been with him. Evan grins sheepishly, refusing to look at Connor. He can feel Connor looking at him with shock, and probably some betrayal. “What’ll you be studying?”</p><p>“Oh, um, I don’t really know yet? But, like, I like biology and, uh, geology’s good too. So, something with science I guess.”</p><p>“Lame,” Zoe winks at him. “But seriously, congrats.”</p><p>“Yeah, congrats,” Connor mumbles beside him. Evan can hear it in his tone how betrayed Connor feels. Betrayed because Evan hadn’t told him. Betrayed because Evan will be going off to college, almost eight hours away by train (which is how Evan will be traveling, since he doesn’t have a car… or a driver’s license), and Connor will be staying behind. They hadn’t explicitly talked about it before, but Evan knows that Connor has no plans for after high school.</p><p>Mrs. Murphy confirms this. “Connor didn’t apply anywhere – well, he was in the hospital, wasn’t he? When college applications were due?” Evan squirms uncomfortably. “But this is so great for Evan, we’re all rooting for him, really, he’s become part of the family,” she says to Heidi, then adds somewhat absentmindedly, “It’d just be a shame if Evan and Connor grew apart while he’s in college though, since they’ve been friends for so many years.”</p><p>Evan doesn’t really realize what Mrs. Murphy has just said until his mom looks between him and Connor with a perplexed look. “What do you mean, they’ve been friends for years? They didn’t know each other until this year, right, Evan?”</p><p>Evan’s not sure how to respond. “Uhh –”</p><p>“No, they’ve been friends for a long time – Evan said so. You know, they went to the orchard over the summer and that’s where Evan –”</p><p>At the mention of the orchard, Evan sends a panicked glance at Connor. “No, that’s, I-I mean, I guess, time is, is, like, time is such a subjective –”</p><p>“Well, technically you’re both right,” Connor interjects easily, keeping his expression calm and collected, which is more than Evan can say for himself. “Evan and I have known each other for a long time, but we’ve only recently become friends. Well, better friends, at least.”</p><p>Evan blinks. Well, it isn’t a lie, technically. They <em>have</em> known each other since elementary school.</p><p>Mrs. Murphy lowers her eyebrows. “But I thought… What about Evan’s cast? And the letter?”</p><p>“What letter?” Heidi asks.</p><p>“Oh, that, well –” Evan stammers, but Connor jumps in again.</p><p>“Mom, you’re <em>so</em> embarrassing!” Connor huffs dramatically, and Evan and the remaining Murphys nearly choke at Connor calling Mrs. Murphy “mom”. “Yeah, Evan is my best friend, but I wasn’t always <em>his</em>. I didn’t have any friends before I met Evan. So I…” Connor pauses, trying to think, “… attached myself to Evan, I guess, because he was nice to me. But, Evan – he had Jared – so our friendship was a bit one-sided, on my part. That is, until this year. But yeah, we didn’t really know each other all that well, but he was still my best friend. ‘Cause he was my only friend.”</p><p>Evan rubs the back of his neck, not quite believing how quickly Connor pulled this new lie out of his ass. And somehow, it works.</p><p>“That makes sense,” Mrs. Murphy decides. Evan’s eyes dart to Connor’s – he looks just as surprised as Evan. Evan supposes that no one wants to contradict a sob story. Because that's what Connor made it sound like.</p><p>Heidi, on the other hand, looks speculative. Luckily, she doesn’t say anything more on the matter, instead beginning a new conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Murphy about work or something. Evan quietly breathes a sigh of relief. “That was close,” he murmurs.</p><p>“No kidding,” Connor replies through the side of his mouth. Zoe gives them both a curious look but thankfully keeps quiet. Evan swallows the last of his hot dog, not that he’s very hungry after the scare, and the remaining bun slides slowly and painfully down his throat, not helped by the lump that’s already residing there.</p><p>They manage to make it through the rest of lunch without incident. Evan finally feels like he can breathe once they’ve said goodbye to the Murphys, and he and his mom drive off in their own car. He feels the tension leave his shoulders when they’ve pulled out of the parking lot, but he’s forgotten one important thing.</p><p>“So…” his mom begins. Evan’s shoulders tense up again. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”</p><p>Evan feigns ignorance. “Nope. Nothing.”</p><p>Heidi frowns beside him. “Are you sure? Nothing at all? Like this letter that Cynthia mentioned? Or how you and Connor act like… a couple?</p><p>Evan inhales suddenly and chokes on his spit. Coughing, eyes watering, he manages to reply. “Wha – A-a-a couple? What, just because of what Zoe said? That’s… that’s totally a normal thing, Mom. Like, girls hug each other and hold hands, platonically, all the time. So, like, that’s just how me and Connor are. There’s nothing, nothing, uh, remotely, like, se-sexual or whatever.”</p><p>Heidi gives him a sideways glance, keeping one eye on the road. “Okay, you don’t have to get all defensive on me. Just… you know you can talk to me, right? About anything, Evan. Really, anything. You could tell me you have lice, or you could tell me that you’re gay, and I’d still love you. It wouldn’t change anything.”</p><p>Evan turns away, wrapping his arms around himself. “I’m not! Not gay, Mom. Just, platonically close with my best friend, is all.” Heidi doesn’t say anything else.</p><p><em>I’m not gay,</em> Evan tells himself. <em>I like girls. I liked Zoe. We just weren’t that compatible as people. I’m not gay.</em></p><p>Not that there’s anything wrong with being gay, Evan reminds himself. He’s pretty liberal. They live in New York, after all. But Evan isn’t gay, and he finds it imperative that people understand that. No matter how many people say it – Jared, Zoe, his mom – Evan is adamant that they understand he is not what they say he is. Besides, he’s only ever liked girls before, so it wouldn’t make sense to suddenly like boys instead, would it?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I fucking LOVE when authors put sounds effects in their writing. Like, CONK! I fucking can’t omg. Also, I know it seems like Connor and Zoe are being childish, but honestly this is the same way my brother and I act around each other, and we’re well into our twenties. So.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Spring Break</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hiiiiiii it's been a minute. I took a little break for finals and then spring break. My brother and I went camping for a couple of days - we ended up getting rained out and I sprained my ankle really bad on a hike, but we still had a great time, even if we had to leave a little early. I've been nervous about posting because usually I like to have at least two chapters written ahead of schedule so that I don't have to panic in case something comes up or I get writer's block and need to stop writing for a while, but I've had writer's block for like three months now. I can only manage to write like a few sentences a day, which has really affected my writing schedule (listen to me, I sound like a freaking professional author. I'm not. I'm just a perfectionist).</p><p>anyway, I'm feeling a bit better now and slowly getting back into the groove of writing more frequently. I have the rest of the chapters planned out, and some parts are even written, but I just have to bring everything together. The last chapter has been written since the beginning, but I'm still making changes on that, too, as the story progresses. </p><p>I hope you're still enjoying the story! I know I'm enjoying writing it, despite the block. I've gotten some really lovely comments from some of you, it makes me so happy :) You are all beautiful, wonderful human beans.</p><p>Chapter warnings: le angst, swearing, familial unrest</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Pack your bags, Hansen!”</p><p>Evan groggily wipes the sleep from his eyes as he stands barefoot and pajama-clad at his front door. “Connor… It’s seven-thirty. On a Sunday.”</p><p>“Yeah, and you’re wasting precious time.” Connor pushes past him and darts towards Evan’s bedroom. Evan follows slowly, up the stairs, and pushes the door to his room open to find Connor already raiding Evan’s dresser, stuffing things at random into a suitcase.</p><p>His eyes open in realization. Walking calmly to Connor, he uses his softest voice, “Connor, I know things can be tough sometimes, especially with your dad. But people care about you. We should talk about this.”</p><p>Connor pauses and turns to face Evan. “What are you talking about?”</p><p>Evan narrows his eyes. “Aren't we - you're - what are <em>you</em> talking about?”</p><p>“Uh, we’re going on a trip? It’s spring break.” Connor resumes putting a week’s worth of clothes into the suitcase.</p><p>“What? Okay, hold on – hold on!” Evan forcibly pulls Connor away from his dresser. “What are you talking about? What trip?”</p><p>“Did you expect me to just sit around my house, with my family, all day, for a week? I’m getting out of here, man. And you’re coming with me.”</p><p>Evan realizes that Connor isn’t really going to give him a straight answer. “Can you at least tell me where we’re going? And stop – stop it! You’re rumpling everything!” Evan swats Connor away and begins folding his clothes into the suitcase, like a proper human being.</p><p>“The Rocky Mountains!”</p><p>Evan chokes on his breath. “What? Really?” Connor nods vehemently. “…Why?”</p><p>Connor rolls his eyes. “Fresh air, beautiful scenery, what’s not to like?” Evan gives him a look that clearly states he’s done with Connor bullshit. “Okay. I just thought you might want to go. I know it’s been a… a <em>year-and-a-half</em>, and I haven’t made your life any easier (even though that’s kind of <em>your</em> fault),” Connor teases, and Evan smacks his arm. “I thought it’d be a nice break. You’ve worked hard this year. In school, in therapy. Plus, who knows what’ll happen after graduation,” Connor says more quietly.</p><p>Evan feels a pang of guilt in his stomach. They still hadn’t talked about Evan going to college and what it would mean for them. And of course Connor is just trying to be nice. Why does Evan have to be a jerk sometimes? Why does he have to assume Connor has an ulterior motive? He goes back to packing, which seems to placate Connor. “Does my mom know about this?”</p><p>“Yeah, she thought it was a great idea.”</p><p>“Hm, figures. Why didn’t you tell me?”</p><p>“I knew if I told you earlier you would’ve overthought it and not gone.”</p><p>Evan had to agree that sounded like something he would do. “Okay, fine. How many days do I have to pack for?”</p><p>–</p><p>Evan spends the next hour packing and getting ready, Connor only finally leaving him alone to get dressed. At eight-thirty, Mr. and Mrs. Murphy are parked in his driveway, picking them up to take them to the airport.</p><p>“Be good, hun,” his mom tells him. He assures her that he will be. She pulls him in and gives him a long hug. “This trip… it’s gonna be good for you,” she seems to choke on her words. “Yeah. It’ll be good for you.”</p><p>Evan pulls away. “Mom, it’s not like I’m shipping off to ‘Nam. I’ll be back in a few days.” She nods and gives him a wet kiss on the cheek. “Eurgh,” Evan wipes his face, “you’re embarrassing me.” Evan notices the Murphys looking his way.</p><p>“Sorry.”</p><p>“Evan, come on! We’re gonna be late for our flight!”</p><p>Evan turns away, but his mom stops him. “I love you, hun.”</p><p>Evan smiles. “Yeah, I know. I love you too.” He hesitates, then decides to give her a peck on the cheek. When he gets into the car, Connor nudges him. “Stop it. She’s my mom, okay? She worries about me.”</p><p>“Uh-huh,” Connor smirks.</p><p>Evan hugs himself. “Shuddup.”</p><p>Neither of them says much on the drive to the airport, but Mrs. Murphy fills the space with her warnings and reminders. “Don’t be out after dark, make sure you stay together! <em>Never</em> hike alone, it’s a recipe for disaster. Don’t stay up too late, you’ll be back to school before you know it and you don’t want to mess up your sleep cycle. Eat healthy. Evan, make sure Connor eats his protein, and vegetables…” She continues to prattle off instructions. By the time they get to the airport, park the car, and make their way to security, Connor has had enough.</p><p>“Ugh, Cynthia! We get it. We’ll be okay, jeez.”</p><p>Mrs. Murphy finally stops. Mr. Murphy continues for her, “Your mother is worried about you, especially because there is no cell service in the park. Make sure you send a quick email every night before ten o’clock so that we know you haven’t died or anything.”</p><p>Connor smiles at Mr. Murphy’s crude attempt at humor. “Ha, okay, fine. I promise, we’ll be careful. We’ve got each other’s backs, right, Ev?”</p><p>Evan nods, and Mrs. Murphy pulls him aside. “Evan, do me a favor. You’re a good boy, I trust you. Just look out for Connor, alright? I mean, you know he’s still… far from perfect. Just… bring him home to me, okay?”</p><p>Evan nods again. “Mrs. Murphy, I always look out for him. That’ll never change.” She gives him a tight smile and a quick hug, then gives the same to Connor.</p><p>“Okay, boys. Text us when you land! We love you!”</p><p>Connor flushes when Mrs. Murphy yells after them. “Jesus.” But Evan just smiles. It’s nice to hear that phrase sometimes, and today he’s heard it twice.</p><p>They manage to make it through security without any problems. Connor guides Evan through the process of taking out his electronics and liquids – Evan hasn’t been on a plane since he was a kid, but Connor is fairly familiar with airport protocols. When they finally find a couple seats at their gate, Evan is exhausted. He hadn’t planned on waking up early at all during spring break, but before he knows it, he’s on a plane to Colorado. This is definitely not how he expected the week to go. But he isn’t complaining.</p><p>As they wait for their flight to take off, Connor shows Evan pictures of the cabin they’ll be staying in and some hikes that he’d taken the liberty of looking into. Evan suddenly stills when he realizes that he’ll be staying with Connor in a single room, in the middle of nowhere, <em>alone.</em> As Connor continues talking, Evan begins imagining… things. Like, hot things. Even though nothing has happened between them for weeks, and Evan knows logically that Connor would never want him that way. Evan shakes his head, trying to clear out the thoughts. Why is he even thinking about this? He doesn’t like Connor like <em>that</em>. Connor is his friend, and that’s all he’ll ever be. And Evan is fine with that.</p><p>When the plane begins to move, Connor’s breath suddenly hitches. “Oh, god. Okay, Evan, don’t freak out.” At which point, Evan begins to seriously consider freaking out. “No, you’re okay, it’s just… me. I hate flying. I’ve always hated flying. I thought maybe, this time I would be okay because it’s been a couple years, but…” Connor looks at him with slight panic in his eyes.</p><p>Evan has to force himself not to laugh because <em>Connor</em> is afraid of <em>flying</em>. Tough, solid Connor, who never seems to be fazed by anything, is afraid of being in an airplane.</p><p>But Evan doesn’t laugh, because he can tell Connor is serious. Like, <em>serious</em>.</p><p>“I’m usually okay, like, once we’re in the air? Because I can ignore it. But, taking off and landing.”</p><p>Evan nods. “Okay, you’re okay. Just… would it help if we, like, I dunno… If, if I hel-held your hand?” It sounds stupid, and he’s immediately afraid that Connor will reject him. But to his surprise, Connor grabs his hand, and Evan gives him a light squeeze. Connor gives him a grateful smile. As the plane begins its trek down the runway, Connor’s breathing becomes more erratic (“<em>Oh god, oh dear god, we’re gonna die</em>”). Evan squeezes his hand again. “Hey, you’re okay. Look at me. Keep your eyes on me, Con.”</p><p>There’s something so incredibly intimate about holding hands with another while staring deeply into their eyes. Their stormy, gray eyes. Sure, they’d kissed. But that seems to pale in comparison to how this feels. The plane and its occupants melt away, and as stupid as it sounds, Evan swears he fell into Connor’s gaze. He doesn’t realize they are up in the air until Connor looks away and pulls his hand out of Evan’s.</p><p>“Thanks, man. That actually helped.”</p><p>Evan blinks and breathes out, trying to calm his nerves. Maybe there’s something wrong with him. “Yeah, no problem, man,” he tries to sound nonchalant. He has to stop thinking of Connor that way.</p><p>Soon after, Connor falls asleep, and he’s out for the rest of the flight. But not Evan. No, Evan slowly sips the soda that he orders from the flight attendant and thinks. Processes. Trying to remember a time when he found someone else’s eyes that beautiful. Zoe’s eyes are a blue gray, which is nice. Evan remembers finding them pretty, especially in the sunlight. When Evan was a kid, there’d been a cashier at a local grocery store by their house who had golden brown eyes that Evan used to stare unabashedly into. In tenth grade, Evan’s chemistry lab partner was a boy with the darkest eyes Evan had ever seen, but Evan found a peace within them. So Evan supposes it’s not that strange to find Connor’s eyes beautiful.</p><p>“We’ll be experiencing a little bit of turbulence in a moment. We’re just passing through some clouds, folks. Please be seated and buckle your seatbelts if you haven’t already…”</p><p>Evan vaguely hears the pilot over the speaker, lazily checking both his and Connor’s seatbelts. Connor sleeps peacefully, which Evan is grateful for. He doesn’t want Connor to panic unnecessarily about a little bit of turbulence. Evan looks over at his Friend, his hair slightly tussled and his lips parted. A few bits of stray hair fall onto his face as the plane bumps and jostles. Evan tentatively brushes it back, trying not to linger too long touching Connor. He tucks the hair behind Connor’s ear and pulls away, but he continues to watch Connor sleep for a little while longer. It’s rare that Evan gets to see Connor so subdued. When he’s awake, he’s almost always furrowing his eyebrows. Evan ponders vaguely how young Connor will be when he starts getting wrinkles on his forehead. He wonders if Connor will keep him around that long, or if Evan will grow into his mid-life without his best friend.</p><p>He ends up spending the entire six-hour flight thinking about Connor and their friendship, only to end up with fewer answers and more questions than he started with. In fact, he’s so wrapped up in his thoughts that he never considers the fact that he just so happens to know someone who lives in Colorado.</p><p>So when he and Connor step off the plane, Evan is completely floored to see their names being held up on a sign. A sign that’s held by a woman and a young boy. And Mark Hansen standing beside them.</p><p>Evan stops abruptly, and Connor walks into him. “What did you do?” Evan whispers, pulling Connor aside. “Why is he here?”</p><p>Connor shrugs. “He lives here? He’s giving us a ride to our cabin. Figured that way we wouldn’t have to get an Über.”</p><p>Evan grasps Connor’s arm. “Whose idea was this? Was it my mom?” His words are fierce, his voice strained.</p><p>“Whoa, dude. It’s just your dad. You said you wanted to reconnect, right? To meet your brother? What’s the problem?”</p><p>The problem? There are a million problems with this situation, and Evan is about to list them off to Connor when he feels a tap on his shoulder.</p><p>“Evan?” Evan stiffens. He turns to look up at his father, whose jovial smile makes Evan want to punch something. “It’s me, your dad!”</p><p>“I know who you are, I’m not retarded,” Evan bites.</p><p>Mark Hansen doesn’t seem to pick up on Evan’s umbrage; he just smiles wider and claps Evan on the back. “It’s good to see you, kiddo! It’s been too long.”</p><p><em>And whose fault is that</em>, Evan thinks sarcastically.</p><p>“Come on, come meet the family.” Mark Hansen leads Evan and Connor to his wife and son. “Evan, you’ve met Brook.” Evan nods curtly to his dad’s wife. “And this is Landon, my son,” Mark says with pride in his voice. “Your brother.”</p><p><em>Half-brother</em>, Evan corrects him in his mind.</p><p>Landon hides behind his mom’s legs, peering out at Evan and Connor. “Say hello, darling,” Brook nudges him forward.</p><p>Evan had wanted to meet Landon for a long time, but looking at the kid now feels like a punch in Evan’s gut. He looks a lot like Evan, when Evan was a kid. Except Landon has brown hair, courtesy of Brook. And the way Mark had said “my son”… it feels like Evan has shards of glass in his throat. He just looks down at Landon, unable to make a move, unable to say anything.</p><p>Luckily, Connor steps in. “Hi, Landon, I’m Connor. I’m your brother’s friend.” Connor holds out his hand for Landon to shake, which he does, timidly. Connor tries to not look too menacing as he gives Landon a smile. “How old are you?” Landon holds up six fingers. “You play any sports?” Landon shakes his head. “Instruments?” Again, no. “Do you like to read?”</p><p>Landon hesitates before answering. He looks up at his mom for guidance, and once she gives him the go-ahead, Landon nods.</p><p>“That’s so cool! I love reading. What’s your favorite book?”</p><p>Landon looks up at his mom again before answering in a small voice, “Magic Treehouse.”</p><p>“Oh, no way! I love the Magic Treehouse. My favorite is <em>Vacation Under the Volcano</em>. You know it? It’s the one where they go to Pompeii…” Connor continues jabbering with Landon, but Mark pulls Evan aside.</p><p>“Your boyfriend is good with kids, huh?”</p><p>Evan’s body goes rigid. “Wh-what?”</p><p>“Yeah, you know, if I’d known you were gay, I would’ve reached out a lot sooner.”</p><p>
  <em>What?</em>
</p><p>Unsure of what Mark is insinuating, Evan attempts to correct his father, but Mark turns away and claps his hands. “Okay, gang! Ready to get this show on the road?”</p><p>There’s a unanimous agreement. As they walk out of the airport and climb into Mark Hansen’s minivan, Evan processes everything that’s happened since he stepped off the plane. He remains fairly quiet on the two-hour drive into the mountains, answering with the shortest responses that he can. He’s in too much shock to provide anything else. He watches as the urban city melts into rural neighborhoods and eventually into the mountains. Evan counts species of trees to distract himself, and notes the snow getting deeper and deeper on the side of the road as they drive higher into the park. Connor reaches for his hand at one point, but Evan flinches away. Landon, after his excitement at meeting a fellow Magic Treehouse lover, falls asleep a little over thirty minutes after they start driving. And after the radio dies out into static as they get farther into the wilderness, the car is unnervingly quiet, apart from Brook’s small attempts at filling the void. She asks them both about school, what they do for fun, plans for college – really all the stuff that mothers ask about. Connor answers most of her questions.</p><p>They finally reach the cabin after what seems like days, maybe years. Mark helps bring in Connor’s and Evan’s bags, taking a look around. “Wow, you guys are staying here by yourselves? In the middle of nowhere?” He shakes his head. “Can’t believe your mom agreed to this. If you were my kid –” Mark halts. Evan freezes, balling his fists. Mark clears his throat. “I mean, uh. Just. Be safe. Do I need to tell you about protection - ?”</p><p>Evan nearly jumps out of his skin. “Okay, thanks for everything, Dad!” He begins pushing Mark towards the door. “We’re good here. Byeeeeee!”</p><p>“O-Okay! I’ll pick you guys up in a few days!” Mark shouts before the door slams behind him. Evan leans against the door, letting loose a long breath that he hadn’t realized he was holding.</p><p>Connor, thankfully, doesn’t seem to have picked up on what Mark was about to say. “So, your dad’s kind of a jackass, huh?”</p><p>Evan slowly turns to face Connor, his relief quickly replaced with ire. “Whose idea was this,” he asks Connor again.</p><p>“Um, mine? I already told you that I wanted to bring you out here –”</p><p>“Connor! Please. Stop dodging the question.”</p><p>Connor takes in Evan’s expression, his body posture, before answering. “It was my idea.”</p><p>“And my mom?”</p><p>“She…” Connor sighs. “She thought it was a good idea. She arranged everything.”</p><p>Evan clenches his jaw, contemplating how to react. He stands, quietly seething, while Connor watches him apprehensively. “You had no right.” Connor flinches. “No right to – to – to decide this for me, to decide when I would face my – my –” Evan takes a deep breath. “When I would face him. You should know that. Of all people, you should know.”</p><p>Connor bristles. “’Of all people’? Are you really gonna go there? I’m stuck with my dad, everyday. I take his criticism, everyday. I see it in his eyes how much he hates me, Evan. Everyday. I can never get away from it. Your dad – sure, he was a jerk when you were a kid. But maybe he’s changed? You didn’t even give him a chance. You hardly said a full sentence the whole time from the airport to here. And Brook seems nice, but you hate her by proxy. And what about Landon? I thought you wanted to meet your little brother? You didn’t say <em>one</em> thing to that kid, and he doesn’t deserve that. It’s not his fault he was born into your asinine family.”</p><p>Evan scoffs, suddenly defensive. “<em>Asinine? </em>Who’s calling whose family <em>asinine</em>, Connor? And after my mom basically adopted you, welcomed you into our home –”</p><p>Connor laughs tightly. “Oh, don’t even get me <em>started</em> on your relationship with your mom,” he taunts loudly.</p><p>“What’s that mean? <em>What the hell is that supposed to mean?</em>”</p><p>“It <em>means</em> that you don’t grasp even the smallest inkling of how much she does for you. You’re always saying ‘Oh, Connor, you have no idea how lucky you are,’” Connor says in a high-pitched tone, batting his eyes like a Disney princess. “I could say the same to you! Yeah, your mom isn’t around much. But she does <em>everything</em> for you. Her whole life revolves around you, her precious angel. My mom gave up on me! You’re so stupid sometimes, Evan.”</p><p>“<em>I’m</em> stupid? You’re the one who can’t see what he has! You say your dad hates you? Do you even realize why he reads all those books that you like? It’s the only way he feels like he can connect with you, because you give him <em>nothing</em>.” Evan feels thunderous. His heart is about ready to beat out of his chest, like in a <em>Looney Tunes</em> cartoon. “He doesn’t know anything about you, but that’s not for lack of trying, Connor! You’re the one who isn’t trying. And your mom? She’s trying her best! You aren’t making it any easier for her!” Evan huffs loudly. “You push her away, just like you did with Zoe, just like you’re doing with me.”</p><p>Connor’s eyes are narrow, hard, cold. “Fuck you. Fuck you and your stupid anxiety! You know, just because you’re socially awkward doesn’t mean you can talk about me and my family like you know <em>anything</em> about us. You’re just a sad, desperate loser who’d rather hang around a fucked-up family rather than face your own problems!”</p><p>“Well, you’re <em>psychotic!</em>” Evan blurts childishly, heaving his breaths.</p><p>“<em>Excuse me?</em>” Connor suddenly bangs his hand into the wall he’s standing next to.</p><p>Evan flinches, something in the deep recesses of his mind screaming at him to run. It’s fight or flight, and Evan needs to get away – now. “I’m going for a walk,” he declares, grabbing his coat and opening the door.</p><p>“Fine!”</p><p>“<em>Fine!</em>”</p><p>Evan slams the door. He aggressively pulls on his coat, nearly tearing it apart in the process, and begins walking.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>My high school English teachers have truly ruined writing for me. Legit all I can think about is common themes and motifs to put into my writing. My ego is like “I wonder if the readers notice how Evan swears less and stutters less when he’s around Connor, as compared to Zoe and Jared and Alana” or "I hope people understand that Connor quotes books so much because it's a form of escapism and his way of dealing with the real world" or “I think I’ll make the concept of ‘time’ a recurring underlying motif” or “There are so many little ideas and concepts and hidden nods to the original musical and the book and homages to the actors themselves and I hope that the readers pick up on them” and my brain is over here like “omg literally no one else thinks about these things, just shut up and have fun with it”</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Beginnings of a Guarded Heart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I meant to post this chapter later (the eighteenth was my deadline) but I finished early! And I couldn't stand leaving y'all with that cliff hanger. Lemme know what you think! Will Evan ever fully forgive Connor?</p><p>Chapter warnings: swearing, depressive thoughts, spiraling thoughts, toxic self-criticism</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Evan doesn’t walk very far, sticking to the road and tracking his exact movements so as not to get lost in the snow. He’s pissed, but he’s not stupid. He’s maybe five minutes from the cabin when he finds a bench and sits.</p><p>He sits, and he fumes. He has plenty of techniques from Dr. Sherman for situations like these, calming himself and counting his breaths. But Evan doesn’t utilize any of them. Sometimes it just feels good to be angry.</p><p>Evan glances left and right. Satisfied that no one else is around, he growls outwardly. “Fuck, fuck, fuck FUCK!” Evan yells. His face heats from embarrassment even though he knows the only things around to hear him throw a tantrum are the trees. He begins to cry. He’s not even ashamed of it. He’s too worked up to care about appearances.</p><p>They start as hot, angry tears, but Evan quickly dissolves into a miserable mess. His body heaves with the deep sadness and unsettled anger that his first real fight (with his first real best friend) has left him with. Evan cries because he’s socially awkward. Because he’s a sad, desperate loser. Because Connor says so. Because Connor said the things that Evan tries so hard to hide. He tries so hard to not be those things.</p><p>It’s all an act though. Connor is right. Evan would rather pretend to be part of the Murphy family, despite their own problems, than deal with his anger towards his own parents. Evan uses the Murphy family to fulfill the emptiness that resides in his chest. They don’t even know, except Connor. They don’t even know how much he wishes he could be a part of that. They don’t even know the lies he’s told. They don’t deserve that. Evan is a sad, desperate loser, and he doesn’t belong in the Murphy family. He doesn’t deserve them.</p><p>Evan is a sad, desperate loser who deserves a jackass for a dad. A jackass who uses and abuses people. Like Evan. A chip off the old block. An apple that doesn’t fall far from the tree.</p><p>Evan is a sad, desperate loser who deserves a workaholic for a mom. A workaholic who’s never home, who didn’t show up for Evan’s soccer practice because Evan never got to play soccer. Or baseball. Or piano or mathletes or anything because his mom was never around to care.</p><p>These things that Evan hides away, that he never wants the world to see. They’re true. Connor saw through his fake personality. Who else knows these things? Jared, probably. Alana is unnervingly perceptive. Zoe, too.</p><p>Evan’s heart seizes. His friends… they know. They all know. How stupid Evan was to think he had real friends. They’re pretending. They feel sorry for Evan. When Evan isn’t around, they talk about him, probably. They pity him.</p><p><em>“I can’t believe this douche actually thinks we’re friends with him,” </em>Evan can hear Jared say.</p><p><em>“That idiot actually took the bait and thinks he’s an important part of the club. ‘Club historian’ isn’t even a real thing,”</em> Evan imagines Alana say.</p><p><em>“I had to pretend to be his girlfriend for five months. He actually thought I cared about him,”</em> Evan thinks Zoe would say.</p><p><em>“He’s the worst,”</em> Evan knows Connor would say. <em>“I never really liked him anyway.”</em></p><p>The wind picks up and bites at Evan’s skin. His tears freeze on his face. Evan doesn’t care. Evan wraps his arms around himself and digs his fingernails into his palms. Evan cries because Evan is a sad, desperate loser. And crying is exactly what sad, desperate losers do.</p><p>–</p><p>Connor barely looks up from his place on the couch, where he’s reading a book, when Evan finds his way back to the cabin after darkness falls. “You’re alive,” he says emotionlessly. “Thought you might’ve died out there.”</p><p>He says it so nonchalantly, so carelessly. Evan, who thought he was all teared-out after falling apart on the bench, feels his eyes burn with more tears. His stomach drops. His heart clenches. He could’ve died out there, and Connor wouldn’t have cared. Connor didn’t come to get him.</p><p>Evan’s breathing picks up, uneven, and he clutches the gloves that he was beginning to take off. He momentarily considers making a break for it – going back out into the cold, dark, unforgiving world and toughing it out until morning, when he can catch a bus out of Colorado. Away from Connor. Away from his dad. Away from his pathetic life.</p><p>He considers it – seriously considers it – but somehow convinces himself that it would be a bad idea. He wouldn’t make it to morning in the cold. Sleet was beginning to chuck down by the time Evan made it back to the cabin. Evan would freeze to death in a couple of hours. Not like anyone would care if he died. Not like Connor would care if he died. Connor’s life would probably be a lot easier without a sad, desperate loser tagging along behind him.</p><p>And deep, <em>deep</em> down Evan knows logically that Connor would care. But Evan isn’t really thinking logically right now. He’s tired and lightheaded. He doesn’t want to hope anymore. He just wants it to be over.</p><p>Evan doesn’t reply to Connor, instead making his way quietly to the only other room in the cabin, where the beds are. Evan wipes his eyes for the hundredth time that afternoon. He’s so, so tired. He numbly pulls the frozen clothes from his body and changes into pajamas. He doesn’t bother brushing his teeth, instead collapsing into the twin bed on his side of the room and falling almost immediately into a fitful sleep.</p><p>–</p><p>Something smells good. Like eggs. Like bacon. Maybe, if Evan gave himself permission to hope for such things, it’s eggs <em>and </em>bacon.</p><p>He rubs his eyes, bleary from sleep and tears.</p><p>Oh, right. Tears.</p><p>Last night comes back to Evan all at once, and his chest hurts. He rolls over in the bed. He doesn’t want to face today’s consequences.</p><p>But after a few minutes, his stomach growls angrily. He sits up and takes in his surroundings. Sunlight streams in through an open window, refracting off of the white snow and blinding Evan. He shields his eyes and grapples for his phone on the night stand next to him. It’s a little past seven in the morning. Evan groans and lays back down.</p><p>“Oh good, you’re awake.” Evan looks at the doorway, where Connor leans against the frame. “I made breakfast.”</p><p>Evan nods and drags himself out of the warm bed. The wooden floor is cold on his bare feet, and Evan shivers. He pulls on a pair of socks, then decides to get dressed entirely, not wishing to feel even more vulnerable than he already does by wearing hardly any clothes. When he finds his way into the common area, Connor is already halfway done eating.</p><p>Evan was right. It’s bacon and eggs. He sits down tentatively across from Connor, careful not to make too many movements, too many noises. He might do something to upset Connor. He might do something to upset himself.</p><p>He doesn’t want to cry anymore. He’s tired of crying.</p><p>Evan slowly eats. He doesn’t make eye contact with Connor, who sips his coffee and flicks through pages in his book. He finishes his breakfast, washes his plate, and meets Connor in the bathroom to brush his teeth. They brush, side by side, not looking at each other in the mirror. Connor rinses and walks out, saying as he passes by Evan, “Bus is leaving in ten minutes.”</p><p>When Evan returns to the common area, Connor is gone. Evan quickly pulls on his coat and boots, but he finds Connor waiting just outside the door for him. They walk separate from one another, and Evan stiffens when they approach the bench where he sat yesterday. They stand in silence as they wait.</p><p>The shuttle bus trundles towards them. They sit, an empty seat between them to carry their emotional baggage. They don’t talk during the ride.</p><p>They get off at Bear Lake with several other people. It’s only nine o’clock in the morning, but the parking lot is already packed with cars. There are several trailheads at this stop, and a crowd of people are gathered around a signpost with a large, topographical map on it. Several rangers mill about, answering tourists’ questions.</p><p>Connor, who’s near six feet tall, easily looks over people’s heads to the map, makes a mental note, and sets off in the direction of Emerald Lake trailhead. Evan follows. There’s a lot of people puttering about, and Evan almost loses sight of Connor.</p><p>They start walking on the trail with several other couples and families. After about a half mile, though, the group has dispersed, some people walking faster and others slower. Evan likes to take things slow and observe the forest. He notices individual leaves on trees, some brown and barely clinging on and others small and new. He notices patterns of holes on tree trunks where woodpeckers have foraged, searching for grubs. He notices the tiny patches of grass that sprout from the snow and is reminded of the resilience of nature. He grabs Connor’s arm, momentarily forgetting their feud, to point out a chipmunk scurrying through tree limbs.</p><p>But when Connor resentfully pulls away, Evan comes crashing back down to the earth. After that, Evan doesn’t notice his surroundings as much. The momentary distraction has been ruined. Instead, he watches the ground, only noticing muddy puddles and ice to avoid.</p><p>Evan’s created a mess. He never meant for things to get this out of control. Eight months. He’d been playing the part of Connor’s best friend for eight months now.</p><p>Because that’s all it really is, isn’t it? A part. A charade. Connor made that perfectly clear yesterday.</p><p>
  <em>You’re just a sad, desperate loser who’d rather hang around a fucked-up family rather than face your own problems. </em>
</p><p>Evan clenches his jaw. He’d only wanted to be a part of something better. He’d only wanted to be accepted. Because Evan is a mess, anyone can see that. It’s written all over his face. And he doesn’t have an explanation for all the things that he’s done. Everything escalated so quickly, the snowball rolled out of control, and now Evan has ruined multiple lives with one little lie. Just because he wanted to believe he belonged.</p><p>And why shouldn’t he want that? Why shouldn’t he have it? It seems to Evan that belonging to something, or someone, should be a basic human right. Yeah, sure, he went about it all the wrong way, but Evan’s just a kid. Well, technically an adult, but he still feels like a kid.</p><p>He doesn’t have a whole lot of role models to look to when things get tough, so it makes sense that he’d make some bad decisions. He didn’t have a dad who stuck it out. He didn’t have a mom who was there because “mom” was all that she had to be. He didn’t have a group of friends before, a group of friends who make him laugh and feel a little more confident when they’re around.</p><p>A group of friends that he constantly worries he’ll lose. He’ll lose them if they see the worst of him. Because if they knew? They’d hate him. They’d hate him like he hates himself.</p><p>Evan laughs bitterly to himself, remembering that only yesterday he’d thought the world of Connor. He’d thought his eyes were beautiful. He’d thought…</p><p>Evan grinds his teeth and clenches his hands. His chest burns. He stops walking; Connor, who walks ahead of Evan, doesn’t notice. And Evan is so <em>sick</em> of not being noticed.</p><p>Evan bends over slowly, picking up a clump of snow. He looks around. He and Connor are the only ones on this part of the trail. So Evan throws the snow.</p><p>It smacks Connor in the back of the head, and some ice trickles down his coat.</p><p>Connor stiffens and swerves. “What the <em>fuck</em>, Hansen.”</p><p>Evan is a little shocked at himself, but quickly regains his composure. He speaks for the first time since yesterday afternoon, and his voice strains and cracks. “<em>So what</em> if I pretend? <em>So what </em>if I’d rather pretend to be something other than this mess that I am? <em>So what</em> if I want to spend my time with you and your ‘fucked up family?’” Evan, of course, isn’t out-rightly insulting the Murphy family when he says these last words, rather he’s just using the phrase that Connor used yesterday.</p><p>Except Connor doesn’t see it that way. So Connor does the only thing he can think of and stoops to grab a fistful of snow and throws it at Evan’s face.</p><p>The ice stings and scratches his skin, and Evan gapes. <em>If Connor wants war, he’ll get a war.</em></p><p>Evan outwardly growls as he throws the next snowball as hard as he humanly can. Connor ducks, which just angers Evan more. “Fuck you!” Another snowball. And another.</p><p>They aggressively throw fistfuls of snow at each other, not even bothering to form snowballs, aiming and dodging to the best of their abilities. To Evan and Connor, if feels like they’re in the trenches of a battle. To anyone passing by, it just looks pathetic.</p><p>Running in the snow is no easy task. Evan is out of breath more quickly than he’d like to admit, but he doesn’t concede. He ducks behind a tree at the edge of the clearing, narrowly avoiding another snowball. Connor, of course, chases after him, and they soon find themselves in the thick of the forest, off trail.</p><p>Evan jumps behind a snowbank before Connor can see him do so, and Evan smirks as Connor runs past him, oblivious. When Connor stops a few yards away, back turned to Evan, Evan places a well-aimed snowball at Connor. His pitching skills could still use some work – his snowball just barely clips Connor’s ear.</p><p>Connor, who apparently had just been waiting for Evan to reveal himself, swirls around and throws what must be a streamlined snowball.</p><p>Evan doesn’t have enough time to react before the snowball connects with his hairline and cleanly knocks off his knit beanie.</p><p>Evan looks at the beanie sitting in the snow – the beanie that was just on his head – and looks up at Connor. Connor looks just a shocked as Evan. Then Evan can’t help but laugh.</p><p>It starts as a shocked, breathy guffaw and quickly turns into spastic giggles. Connor starts laughing, too.</p><p>It’s not even that funny, but Connor and Evan are both so worn out from anger that they can’t stop the incessant laughter. Evan clutches at his stomach and collapses into the snow, no longer able to hold himself up. Connor falls next to him, and they lay in the snow, side by side, laughing until they can’t laugh anymore.</p><p>Evan wipes a few tears from his eyes and coughs out a last few giggles. He watches his warm breath form little, temporary clouds in the cold air above him. They lay for a while, until their breathing mellows out.</p><p>Evan can see Connor turn to look at him from the corner of his eye. Evan keeps his eyes on the forest canopy above. Connor purses his lips, clearly hesitant, but eventually decides to speak. “You know I didn’t mean what I said, right? Yesterday?”</p><p>Evan bites the inside of his cheek. “No. Not really.”</p><p>Connor takes a deep breath. “Well, I didn’t. I don’t think of you that way. I was just frustrated, and it came out. I didn’t mean it.”</p><p>Evan closes his eyes. “Me neither.”</p><p>Connor finds Evan’s mittened hand with his own gloved one and holds it. Evan nearly flinches away, still feeling tendrils of irritation in his chest. But Evan knows that this is Connor’s apology, even if he didn’t really say “sorry.” So Evan takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and imagines the grudge that had been forming fly away as he breathes out. He lets it drift upwards through the icy air, momentarily getting caught in the branches of the trees above before shaking loose with the wind and disappearing in the sky. He does the hard thing – he lets it go. It would be so much easier to hold on to the grudge and let it claim Evan’s life, manipulating him into a bitter and resentful person. But Evan doesn’t want to become a bitter and resentful person. So Evan lets Connor hold his hand.</p><p>But despite his best efforts to forgive and forget, a small part of Evan’s heart becomes hard, guarded against future hostility to keep him safe. He doesn’t intend for it to happen, but part of him has pulled away from Connor. Because maybe Connor didn’t mean the things he said, but he’d still said them. And they had to come from somewhere, some form of truth.</p><p>So Evan lets Connor hold his hand. But he mentally backs away from his friend.</p><p>They lay a while in the snow, quietly, listening to the sounds of the vacant forest, until Connor speaks again.</p><p>“I can’t feel my ass.”</p><p>Evan snorts, letting himself smile. He stands and pulls Connor up after him. They pick their way back to the trail and continue their hike, this time walking together and chatting as they go.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey Connor, do you wanna build a snowmannnnn??</p><p>Oh, hey, would you look at that? A new motif is emerging! COMMUNICATION people. This is the second time Evan and Connor have argued about something and kind of resolved it but never actually apologized. The first time was when Evan was upset that Connor didn’t show any concern for Evan after his breakup with Zoe, in case you didn’t remember. 😊</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Learning to Let Go</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay, real talk: what is the past tense of “to drink”?? Seriously, like, drank, drunk, drunken, drinked, dranken, it’s a fuckin mystery to me. They all sound wrong.</p><p>This is the last installment in the spring break saga! And it's fuckin long. Hope you like it! </p><p>Chapter warnings: swearing, miniature panic attack, mentions of suicide, embodiments of depression and anxiety, family angst/fighting/general strife</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I’m fucking <em>freezing</em>.” Connor stomps the snow off his boots before ripping them from his feet. He dashes over to the fireplace and sets about piling up the logs.</p><p>Evan shrugs off his coat and other excess clothing. “It’s no colder here than it is in Rochester. It might even be colder in Rochester, honestly. It’s farther north.”</p><p>Connor huffs. “<em>Yeah</em>, but I don’t spend time outside in Rochester in the winter. I stay indoors as much as I possibly can, preferably in heated places. <em>Whydoesn’tthisplacehaveaheater?</em>” Connor struggles to light the match.</p><p>Evan rolls his eyes and carefully takes the match from Connor, easily lighting it and tossing it into the log pile. Connor shivers and sighs gratefully. It takes a little stoking, but the fire eventually becomes big enough to give off heat. Connor begins warming each part of his body individually while Evan searches through the little kitchen cupboards, eventually finding a kettle to make some hot water. He watches the water boil, hearing Connor’s contented <em>ooh</em>’s and <em>ahh</em>’s a few yards away from him.</p><p>By the time Evan has put together two cups of hot cocoa, Connor is eagle-spread across the floor in front of the fire. Evan kicks him lightly, and Connor sits up, gratefully wrapping his long fingers around the warm mug that Evan hands to him. “Ohhhh, fuck,” he hums, shivering with his whole body.</p><p>Evan hesitates to sit down, wondering if it’d be alright to sit next to Connor. They’d reconciled a few days ago, now, but they’re still tiptoeing around each other. Evan’s just waiting to mess up again – things are usually his fault, after all. Connor might want the floor to himself. He might not want Evan clinging to his every move. So Evan decides to play it safe and sit on the couch. Connor’s eyes follow him, but he doesn’t say anything. They sit in amicable silence, the only sound in the room is the sipping of their cocoa. The room gradually becomes darker. The sun had been setting when they got back to the cabin after a full day of exploring and stopping for dinner at a little café on the side of the road. Evan forgot to turn on the lights before he sat down, and now he’s too comfortable to be bothered to get up. Pretty soon, the glow of the fire is the only light left in the room.</p><p>Evan is often mesmerized by fire. He could watch a single flame flicker for hours and not notice the time slip by. There’s something so magical, or mystical, or mysterious – he’s not sure what the right word for it is, but he’s pretty sure it’s an “m” word – about the way fire breathes and dances. He likes the sound the logs make as they burn: small fizzles and louder cracks and tiny pops. He likes the colors: the tips of the flames are an unbearably bright lemon, but closer to the logs it becomes blue around the edges. He recalls what Connor said eons ago about liking the smell of a campfire. Well, this might not be a campfire, per se, but Evan breathes in the smell of toasted oak logs and loves it anyway. Evan lets his eyes glaze over and his mind quiet. He doesn’t notice that his cocoa, only half drank, starts to go cold.</p><p>At some point, Connor decides to join Evan on the couch, and Evan automatically leans his head on Connor’s shoulder. It’s quiet, and peaceful, and everything Evan likes. He closes his eyes and is just beginning to doze when he hears his name.</p><p>“Evan,” Connor whispers a little louder.</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>Connor doesn’t say anything for a while, and Evan starts to drift off again.</p><p>“Can I kiss you?”</p><p>Evan’s eyes blink and startle. He sits up and looks at Connor. He’d been half asleep, so maybe he’d heard wrong. “What?” Because surely Connor hadn’t said what Evan thinks he said.</p><p>Connor turns his head away and scratches his jaw. “Um, I just…” Connor takes a breath and closes his eyes. “CanIkissyou?” He’s says it all at once as he breathes out, clearly unsure and anxious.</p><p>At Evan’s sharp intake of breath, Connor opens his eyes again. Evan blinks rapidly, thinking, trying to gauge if this is a joke. It has to be a joke, right? Why would Connor want to kiss Evan? Well, yeah, they’d kissed before, but why would Connor want to kiss Evan now?</p><p>Evan’s lets out a small, shaky laugh, but stops abruptly when Connor looks away again. That’s not what Evan intended. “No, sorry, I just, wow, I-I mean, like, I wasn’t, I just wasn’t expecting…” Connor still won’t look at him. Evan bites his lip. “Yeah. I mean, yes.” Evan can see a light smile pull at the corners of Connor’s mouth when he turns back towards Evan. Evan looks Connor’s lips, then back at Connor, absentmindedly darting his tongue out to wet his mouth.</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>“Okay,” Evan breathes shakily.</p><p>Connor leans towards him slowly with hooded eyes, and Evan holds his breath. He doesn’t really realize that he’s leaning back, away from Connor, until his head touches the couch armrest and Connor is suddenly on top of him. “You’re sure?” Connor’s lips are so close to Evan’s that he can feel Connor speak.</p><p>“Mnuh-huh,” is all Evan can manage in the way of affirmation. Because Evan’s not actually sure if he wants this – well, he <em>wants </em>it, he’s just not sure <em>why</em> – and he’s a bit nervous. But when Connor finally brushes his lips across Evan’s, Evan just kind of forgets… everything.</p><p>Connor starts lightly, sweetly, still gauging Evan’s reaction. But when Evan relaxes into Connor’s touch, Connor slides his fingers through Evan’s hair and presses into him, slipping one leg between both of Evan’s. Evan, not really in control of his own actions, runs his fingers up Connor’s spine, eliciting a sigh from the boy on top of him. “Fuck,” Connor breathes and places a kiss on Evan’s jaw, in Evan’s hair, behind Evan’s ear, slowly making his way down Evan’s neck.</p><p>Evan can feel a tingling warmth pool in his stomach and is unable to stop the mewl that escapes his mouth – he’d never known how sensitive his neck is. “S-sorry, I, I-I, just –” Evan bites the inside of his cheek. Connor quiets him with a kiss to his lips. He looks directly into Evan’s eyes and says unabashedly, “I like it.”</p><p>Evan’s eyes widen dramatically, and Connor’s words shoot down Evan’s spine and into the pool of heat in his stomach. He doesn’t really have time to process it before Connor kisses him again. Evan doesn’t realize he’s cradling Connor’s ass in his hands, bring him closer, until Connor presses his forehead into Evan’s and moans, “You’re gonna kill me, Ev.”</p><p>Evan likes it when Connor calls him “Ev.” Like, he <em>really</em> likes it. He likes the way the first letter sounds almost like a moan because Connor says it with his throat. Evan likes the way Connor’s Adam’s apple dips when he says it. And then the second letter. Connor’s front teeth press into his lower lip to make the sound, and Evan likes to watch Connor’s lips. So overall, it’s a rather pleasant experience.</p><p>Evan’s eyelids flutter as he sighs contentedly. “I like it when you call me that.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>Evan nods slowly. Connor traces his thumb across Evan’s lower lip and looks at him through his eyelashes. “Ev,” he whispers, “I like kissing you.”</p><p>Evan’s heart stutters. “M-me, me too.” Evan brings one hand to the back of Connor’s neck and leads him back down. Their lips meet again, languid and soft. Connor runs his hand down Evan’s chest.</p><p>It’s like they fit together, laying on this couch. Their legs automatically tangle, their fingers fit perfectly in the hands of the other, their lips are carved to slide together comfortably. Evan has never quite experienced anything like it. He’s never felt such bliss with another person before.</p><p>But as soon as Evan begins to think he could get used to doing this kind of thing, Connor’s fingers slip past Evan’s waistband. His panicked brain suddenly switches back on and Evan pushes, hard. Connor lets out a wavering <em>whoa </em>and lands with a loud <em>thump</em> on the floor next to the couch.</p><p>“Jesus, <em>would you stop doing that?</em>” Connor grumbles as he rubs the back of his head, referring to the last time they’d kissed.</p><p>Evan sits up and clutches his shoulders, hugging himself in an attempt to calm his breathing. His fingernails automatically begin to dig into his skin. His heart stutters again, but this time in an altogether unpleasant way. He closes his eyes, trying to block out his surroundings.</p><p>“Evan?”</p><p>Evan cups a hand over his mouth. “N-no, I’m sorry, I just, just, too much.” Evan tucks his legs into his chest and pulls them tight, transforming himself into a ball.</p><p>Evan’s pretty sure he might have been an armadillo in a past life.</p><p>Connor jumps back onto the couch, concern clouding his face. He places a hand on Evan’s shoulder, but Evan flinches and Connor pulls away. “Okay, okay, you’re fine, it’s, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve – I, I should’ve asked.” Evan nods shakily. Connor’s hand hovers above Evan’s shoulder where he’d pulled away. “What can I do?”</p><p>Evan shakes his head, unable to form an answer.</p><p>“Can I hug you?”</p><p>“N-no! No, sorry, no, please.” Evan hadn’t meant to shout.</p><p>“Okay, okay, tha-that’s okay. How can I help?”</p><p>Evan squeezes his eyes shut again, steeling himself. “Just – give me a minute?”</p><p>“Of course, yeah, of course. Anything. I should’ve asked. I just – I mess everything up, fuck. Ev – um, Evan, I’m sorry. I just got carried away, I wasn’t thinking, I just, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, okay?”</p><p>Evan can hear Connor rambling. Inside his own head, alarms are going off. Connor expresses himself through touch, something that Evan has noticed since the first time Connor hugged him in his driveway. Evan is still afraid of the whole intimacy thing. It scares him, being vulnerable with someone. When Evan’s feeling vulnerable, he locks himself away from prying eyes. He doesn’t let people see him unravel. Except for Connor, Evan reminds himself. Connor’s seen him unhinged several times now. And he gets it. He understands. He doesn’t judge. He blames himself most of the time. But it’s not Connor’s fault, it’s just Evan’s stupid brain.</p><p>Evan can hear Connor rambling, hear the panic in his voice. So Evan pushes aside his own fears to comfort his friend.</p><p>“It’s fine, you’re fine. I just,” Evan forces himself to let go of the tight ball he’s rolled into, “still not entirely used to, like, human touch? I guess?” Evan cringes outwardly. “I just, I’m still getting used to it. And, and I panicked.” Evan bites down the truth. The truth that he’s afraid of being with someone in that way.</p><p>Connor bites his lower lip, wide-eyed, nodding. “Okay, okay, good. I’m just a little – like, I ruin things a lot, right? I mean, it’s my fault that everything’s so fucked up, like my family, and me, and your life, I messed that up too, like, things wouldn’t be fucked up if I wasn’t here, you know? If I’d properly killed myself, you wouldn’t have these problems.” Connor laughs uncomfortably, but stops when he sees Evan’s face. “Right?”</p><p>Evan is horrified. “No? No, not right. Connor, how long have you been feeling this way?” Evan forgets all previous fears and inhibitions.</p><p>“Like what? Like I want to kill myself? I haven’t – or, I don’t. Feel that way. Most of the time. Sorry, it’s just, right now, it just came out. But I’m usually okay. Honest.”</p><p>Evan purses his lips, not sure how to respond. But Connor finds comfort in touch, Evan reminds himself, so Evan reaches out and takes one of Connor’s hands in his own, intertwining their fingers in hopes of grounding Connor.</p><p>“Thanks. Sorry, again, I didn’t mean to freak you out.”</p><p>Evan sets his jaw. “You can tell me anything. And me freaking out? That’s not your – I mean, just don’t, uh, worry about that. That’s just me. My stupid brain.” Evan gives Connor a weak smile.</p><p>“Right,” Connor huffs a laugh, his eyes darting away from Evan’s. “Right.”</p><p>Evan squeezes Connor’s hand, and Connor squeezes back. The response lets Evan know that Connor is still here and not stuck in his own mind.</p><p>“You’ll tell me, right? The next time you think about that? Like, even in passing. Seriously. It’s important.”</p><p>Connor, still refusing to look directly at Evan, mumbles, “Yeah, ‘course.” He pulls his hand out of Evan’s. “Sorry, didn’t mean to bring you down.”</p><p>Evan wants to tell Connor that mental health, talking about it, will never bring him down. Evan <em>wants</em> to know what Connor is thinking. Evan <em>wants</em> to know if Connor is okay or not. Evan <em>wants</em> to be a part of Connor’s life, through the good and the bad.</p><p>But Evan doesn’t tell him. Perhaps Evan is afraid of feeling vulnerable in more ways than one.</p><p>In the end, Evan awkwardly asks if Connor would like to turn in. Connor says that he’ll stay up for a while longer, so Evan leaves him alone in front of a dying fire. The tiny flames lick at the veins of the remaining wood, just trying to survive. As Evan walks past the fireplace, a piece of the last log crumbles into ash.</p><p>–</p><p>“Do we have to?”</p><p>“I don’t see how else we’re going to get home.”</p><p>“Yeah, but, like, do we have to stay the night? Can’t he just drop us off at the airport? I’d be fine sleeping in the airport.”</p><p>Connor rolls his eyes. “You have to face him sometime.”</p><p>“I already did, practically,” Evan grumbles childishly.</p><p>Connor catches Evan’s chin in his fingers, pulling Evan’s face towards his own and focusing his attention on Connor. “It’s one night. I’ll be there the whole time. You’ve got this.” He leans towards Evan’s face but stops midway, hesitating. “Is this alright?”</p><p>Evan nods, and Connor kisses him softly. He hums. If he has to spend the night at his dad’s house, at least he has Connor to console him.</p><p>Outside, Evan can hear a car roll to a stop outside of their cabin. “Guess it’s time,” Connor pulls away and grabs their luggage, stepping outside to greet Mark Hansen. Evan takes a last look around the cabin – their sanctuary from the world, from his father – before joining Connor outside.</p><p>He spots Landon, excitedly jumping around in the snow and chatting animatedly to Connor. Evan feels his body clench, and he grinds his teeth.</p><p>He closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath. <em>He doesn’t deserve that. It’s not his fault he was born into this family,</em> Connor’s words echo in Evan’s mind. So Evan takes another deep breath and imagines his misplaced anger towards Landon float away. It works, a little bit. Just enough that Evan can pretend he doesn’t feel the jealousy bubbling deep inside his chest.</p><p>Evan opens his eyes again. Landon is seemingly attempting to climb Connor’s tall frame, accidentally pulling Connor’s pants slightly down in the process. Evan chuckles lightly, watching his best friend and his little brother. Evan blinks. His little brother. He has a little brother. He’s never really thought of it that way before. Like, he’s a big brother. It’s a nice feeling.</p><p>But the nice feeling doesn’t last very long. Mark Hansen appears from behind the minivan, grinning and waving at Evan. Evan’s slowly-forming smile slides into a frown.</p><p>“Heya, kiddo! Ready to spend some quality time with your pop?”</p><p>Evan doesn’t answer. He makes his way over to Landon and feels a little guilty when Landon hides from him behind Connor’s legs, similar to how he acted at the airport. “Landon? Hi, we didn’t really get to talk last time we were together. But I’m Evan. I’m your big brother. I… I hope we can be friends.” Evan holds out his hand, and Landon eyes him suspiciously.</p><p>Landon looks up at Connor, who gives him a nod of approval, just like Brook had. “It’s okay, he’s nice.”</p><p>With Connor’s encouragement, Landon smiles widely and takes Evan’s hand. “I guess you’re okay. We can be friends,” he says aloofly. Connor snorts, and even Evan can’t deny the smile that spreads across his face from the sudden confidence his little brother displays.</p><p>The four of them pile into the car. Landon is adamant that he can buckle his own seatbelt, wanting to prove that he’s a big boy, Evan assumes, so Mark Hansen allows his son the freedom to buckle himself in. He, of course, checks the buckle discreetly to make sure Landon did it properly.</p><p>Satisfied, Mark Hansen switches the car into drive, and Connor finds a way to fill the sudden silence. “So, where is Mrs. Hansen?”</p><p>Evan feels a funny jolt in his chest. He’d always thought of his mom as Mrs. Hansen.</p><p>“Oh, you can just call her Brook. She’d prefer that. She’s working today, but she’ll meet us back home around six o’clock.”</p><p>“Yeah, it’s boys only!” Landon shouts from the middle seat. “Just, me, my brothers, and Dad! No Mommas allowed!”</p><p>Evan catches Connor’s ears turn pink. “You… you think I’m your brother?” He seems taken aback, but definitely pleased.</p><p>Landon furrows his eyebrows. “Well, yeah, aren’tcha’?”</p><p>“Actually, son, Connor is your brother’s boyfriend.”</p><p>Now it’s Evan’s turn to turn pink. “No, ah, we’re not –” Evan attempts to correct his father for the second time that week, but Landon interrupts him.</p><p>“BOYS ARE ALLOWED TO HAVE BOYFRIENDS?”</p><p>Connor lets out a <em>pfffft</em>. “Yeah, dude. And girls are allowed to have girlfriends.”</p><p>Landon’s eyes are comically wide. “That’s <em>so cool!</em> Daddy! Daddy! I want a boyfriend when I grow up!”</p><p>Evan covers his snicker as he watches Mark Hansen’s brow fly into his hairline from the rearview mirror. “Oh, um, yeah. That’s great, son.”</p><p>For the rest of the drive, Evan manages to block out his father’s presence and focus on Landon. The kid is full of such life and energy. It reminds Evan of how he used to be before his dad left. So Evan watches Landon hold Connor’s attention, suddenly overcome with a force of love and a need to protect his little brother, and Evan only feels a little jealous of the life he might’ve had.</p><p>–</p><p>They reach the Hansen household a little after three o’clock. Mark manages to show Connor and Evan to the guest room they’ll be staying in, with one queen-sized bed for the two of them (“But no funny business, okay?”), before Landon drags the both of them into his own room to show off his toys.</p><p>Evan listens fondly as Landon explains his current playtime storyline: Megatron has taken control of all the pupmobiles and is using them for evil, so it’s up to the PAW Patrol gang to take him down and save the city. Landon explains each dog’s role in the story, and how Megatron is holding Ryder, the apparent leader of the dog squad, captive in his evil lair, the Death Star. “Right now, Skye and Rubble are, are <em>building </em>a<em> spaceship</em> that won’t get taken over by Meg-Megtatron, and, and, and, and, so, and but they don’t know that, that Rocky is <em>actually</em> a <em>spy</em> for Megatr-Megtaron, so Rocky is telling Megtaron evr-everything that their PAW Patrol is doing, and, but so they don’t know that, so the Megtatron is actually is already knows that they’re coming –”</p><p>Evan begins to lose Landon’s storyline, but he’s content to watch Landon talk, unafraid of emotion, unafraid of passion, unafraid of tomorrow. Connor engages Landon, asking questions to show his interest, to show that Landon is important, and Evan gets a funny feeling in his throat. Like he wants to giggle and sob at the same time. Evan leans his elbows onto his knees and rests his chin in his palm; it’s a nice feeling, so long as he doesn’t give in to either side.</p><p>When Landon asks if he and Connor want to play with him, the feeling builds into a lump and Evan has to excuse himself to get a glass of water. “You guys start, I’ll be right back.”</p><p>Evan weaves his way through the house, vaguely remembering where the kitchen is. He rummages through several cupboards until he finds the glassware. As he leans against the counter and sips his water slowly, he wonders where his father might be and hopes that he doesn’t run into him in his own house. Unfortunately, he finds him on his journey back to Landon’s room.</p><p>“Whoa, hey, kiddo!” Evan cringes internally at the nickname. “Where you headed?”</p><p>Evan refuses to look Mark in the eye. “Landon,” he says simply.</p><p>“Ah, yeah, that kid has a lot of energy. You know you don’t have to entertain him, right? He knows how to play on his own. Why don’t you join me for a bit? Catch up with your old man?”</p><p>“I promised I’d be back.”</p><p>“Ach, come on, they won’t miss you. Let’s chat for a bit.” <em>They won’t miss you.</em></p><p>Evan purses his lips, unable to come up with an excuse that Mark won’t shoot down. So instead, he finds himself sitting in an armchair opposite of his father in the living room.</p><p>They sit awkwardly for a moment, neither quite sure what to say. Mark breaks the silence. “So, how, how are things? How’s your mom?”</p><p><em>Like you care</em>, Evan thinks, but bites back the retort. “She’s fine,” he says instead.</p><p>Mark nods. “Good, good. You know, I was actually surprised when she reached out to me, saying you wanted to meet up? I haven’t talked to her in years.” Mark smirks a little. “She’s not the biggest fan of Brook.”</p><p>Evan’s not sure how to respond to that.</p><p>After another beat of silence, Mark tries again. “So, you’re doing good in school? What grade are you in now?”</p><p>Evan looks at his hands, watches them clench and unclench. “Yeah, good. I’m a senior.”</p><p>“Whoa, so you’re graduating soon? That’s awesome, kiddo!” Again, Evan cringes. “You’re so grown up, it’s crazy.” He waits for Evan to say something. No luck. “You, you and Connor… how did you meet?”</p><p>“School,” Evan mumbles. He sighs. Mark is clearly trying. Maybe Evan should take his own advice and make an effort to connect with his own father. “It was… kind of an accident, that we became friends, I guess.” Evan wonders how much to tell his father. His mom doesn’t even know the whole story. “He, um… we’ve been, uh, classmates? For forever. But I just – we just didn’t talk, at all? And then, um, we kind of… bumped into each other? In the hallway? At the beginning of this year, and, he signed my cast, and then we just kind of started hanging out.”</p><p>“Your cast?”</p><p>Evan’s heart skips. “Oh, yeah, I, uh, broke my arm. Over the summer.”</p><p>“How did that happen?”</p><p>Evan momentarily considers telling Mark the truth. Because sometimes it’s easier to tell the truth to someone you don’t know very well. And maybe telling the truth will get rid of the darkness that resides in Evan’s head, the voices that tell him he should’ve fallen from a higher tree, or jumped from a ten-story building, or overdosed on something like Connor. Maybe if Mark knew the truth, he’d show some sign of remorse, some sign to let Evan know that he actually cares about his first born.</p><p>But then again, maybe Mark wouldn’t care at all.</p><p>Evan doesn’t think he could take that kind of rejection. “Fell out of a tree,” he eventually decides to mumble.</p><p>Mark barks a laugh. “Wow, that’s… something else.”</p><p>Evan nods his head slightly.</p><p>“Well, you and him seem really good together.” Again, Evan nods. “He’s a bit, uh… I just never would have imagined you with some emo kid. But he seems nice.”</p><p>Evan bites his tongue. He wants to immediately defend Connor, say that he’s really not emo, he just likes to wear black, he’s a good person, he makes Evan feel happy, but Evan is too afraid to contradict his father. He remembers when Mom would contradict him. He remembers the yelling. He remembers doors slamming and walls being punched. He doesn’t want that directed at him.</p><p>“You still hang out with that kid, er… Jared, I think is his name?”</p><p>“Yeah. He’s, uh, a-about the same as you remember, probably.” Mark nods. They both know what Evan means: that he’s outspoken. “But, yeah, we’re still friends. He-he’s a, a good person to, um, have around, I guess?” Even if Evan finds him callous at times. “And, there’s this girl, Alana? She’s, like, really nice and, and she – we’re in the Environmental Club together. She’s the president, she’s a leader kind of person. And, um, Zoe? She’s Connor sister. She’s… she’s great, too. Really, um, nice and, and talented. She does – she’s in jazz band, with the guitar? And she cares, a lot, more than she lets on, I think. Same with Alana.” Evan smiles softly, thinking of his friends. His friends who he’s so afraid of losing. “They’re all… amazing. I just really, um, love them, I guess.” Evan rubs the back of his neck. He should tell them how he feels about them more often. They probably have no idea how much Evan appreciates each of them. Even Jared.</p><p>“Wow, that’s great, kiddo. A whole group of friends, never thought I’d hear that.”</p><p>Evan catches the slight his dad throws his way. He’s not sure Mark even knows he’s doing it.</p><p>“What about college? Any plans on that front?”</p><p>“Yeah, um, I got accepted to City College? Of New York? I’m, uh, not really sure what I want to study yet, but it’ll be something with, like, biology, or maybe geology, or something. It’s, uh, it’ll be tight, but Mom says it’ll be okay.”</p><p>“Tight? As in, like, money?”</p><p>Evan’s eyes widen. He hadn’t meant to let that slip. “Yeah, no, it’s um, it’s fine, really, Mom’s been saving for, since, like, forever, and I got a few scholarships, so it’s fine.”</p><p>Mark is quiet, thinking. Finally, he clasps his hands, clearly deciding something. “I wanna help you out. I’ve got some put away for Landon’s college fund, but that’s still a ways off, so I can spare it.”</p><p>Evan’s body tightens. “No, uh, no that’s fine, really, that’s for Landon, don’t, I mean, I really, you shouldn’t –”</p><p>“It’s really fine, kiddo. I’ve got a pretty steady income, and so does Brook, we’ll make it up in no time.”</p><p>Evan can’t breathe. He doesn’t like to talk about money, it makes him too anxious. “No, really, I don’t, I can’t do that, take it, that’s, you don’t have to –”</p><p>“I know, but I should –”</p><p>“Seriously, like, stop, I can’t, don’t –”</p><p>“It’s just money, kid, just fucking take it.”</p><p>Evan doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want his father’s pity money. He doesn’t want anything from his father, he realizes. Because Mark has never wanted anything from Evan. He’s never called, never sent a birthday card, never visited. He’s clearly never wanted Evan in his life. So Evan can’t take his money. Evan can’t be indebted to him like that. “No, seriously, s-stop, I don’t, I don’t want it!” Evan stands, staring at the floor. “I – don’t give it to me, I don’t want it.”</p><p>It seems like an eternity of Evan standing there in silence, willing his brain to stop screaming, swallowing his uneven breaths, clenching and unclenching his fists.</p><p>“Okay, fine, so you don’t want it.” Mark sounds peeved.</p><p>Evan lets out a small sob, a hiccup, and covers his mouth. Even if Mark has never been there for Evan, even if Evan doesn’t want anything from Mark, he can still hear the disappointment in Mark’s voice. Disappointment in who his son turned out to be. And it hurts. “I’m sorry, I’m, I’m so sorry –”</p><p>Mark huffs, irritated, and leaves the room, clearly not intending to come back. Why would he? His son is a wreck who’s crying in his living room. Evan doesn’t even know why he’s crying. The pressure, he supposes, that his father suddenly put on him. He just wants to curl into himself, pretend that the world isn’t there. He stumbles back to the guest room and manages to calm down slightly.</p><p>His breathing evens out, and he wipes a couple of tears from his eyes. The clock reads five. Brook will be home soon. The thought almost sends Evan spiraling. His father will probably tell Brook all about how Evan is such a loser and how he started crying in their living room for no apparent reason and how he’ll be so glad when Evan and his emo friend are gone.</p><p>There’s a knock on the door, and Evan thinks it might be Mark, coming to apologize, to check in, make sure he’s okay. He’s actually disappointed when it turns out to be Connor. Disappointed and angry with himself for getting his hopes up.</p><p>“Hey, you disappeared – what happened?” Connor sees Evan’s red eyes and blotchy face, despite Evan’s attempt to hide it. Connor closes the door and sits next to Evan on the bed.</p><p>Evan waves a hand. “It’s nothing, it’s stupid…”</p><p>Connor frowns. “It’s not stupid, not if it’s making you feel this way.” Evan smiles slightly at that.</p><p>“No, I, really, I actually don’t want to talk about it. It’s <em>actually</em> stupid,” Evan lets out a breathy laugh at himself. He’d overreacted. Like, <em>way</em> overreacted. His dad was just trying to help out. “Did you – were you playing with Landon?”</p><p>Connor actually lights up, then tries to curb his smile. “Sorry, yeah, no, I just… I fucking love that kid.” They both giggle. “So, Megatron foiled PAW Patrol’s plans, but I guess Wolverine came to the rescue? He’s got a wild imagination. He was asking what it’s like to date you,” Connor smiles wide when Evan snorts, “I just told him it’s like having a best friend that you get to hold hands with and kiss sometimes.”</p><p>Evan stops laughing slightly, taken aback that Connor hadn’t corrected him. Evan shrugs. He supposes that Landon’s just too cute to let down. There’s nothing wrong with letting him think that they’re dating.</p><p>“I, uh, I told Landon I’d be right back. Do you – are you feeling okay? Want to come play with us?”</p><p>Evan can’t stop the smile that creeps across his lips. “Yeah, no, I’d like that.”</p><p>Landon is so excited to see Evan again that Evan forgets all about his father until Brook arrives home with pizza. Evan helps her put together a quick green salad before they all sit to eat. Evan eats his salad first, nudging Connor to do the same. He wants to be a good influence for Landon.</p><p>“You two look good – did the fresh mountain air clear out the city fog?”</p><p>Evan nods at Brook. “Yeah, I think it’s really just what we needed. Thank you, by the way, for picking us up from the airport, and um, letting us stay here tonight? It’s really… thank you.”</p><p>Brook tells him it’s no trouble. Evan is beginning to like her. It feels like a bit of a betrayal to his mom, but he can’t help it. “What did you boys get up to today?”</p><p>“We played in my room all day and, and, and, Connor was Megtatron and Evan was Chase, and, and I was Wolverine, and then, but Megtatron tried to blowed up the planet with his ship, and but, Wolverine knocked him out and he got sucked up into the space, so me and Evan had to figure out how to stop the machine from blowing it up, but we couldn’t, and so then Ryder came and fixed it so that the planet was saved and then we all went back home and had a party and-and threwed Rocky in jail.” Landon’s cheeks are pink with excitement, and he bounces up and down on his knees in the chair.</p><p>Brook stays engaged for every word, and Evan is grateful that she knows the importance of making Landon feel heard. “Wow, that’s quite an adventure! Where do you find the time to be a kid when you’re being a superhero all the time?”</p><p>She’s teasing, and Landon giggles. “It’s pretend, Momma. I’m still a kid, I was pretending.”</p><p>Brook feigns relief. “Oh, phew, okay. I thought I was going to have to have a talk with Megatron about letting you have some fun once in a while.” Landon giggles again. Evan likes the sound of Landon’s giggles, they’re intoxicating.</p><p>“Don’t patronize him, Brook.”</p><p>Evan feels the smile slip off his face. Brook looks apologetic, and Landon’s giggles subside as he becomes confused by the tension in the room.</p><p>Mark clears his throat and folds his fingers together. “We treat Landon like an adult in this house. We want him to grow up mature and prepared for the world. He’s going to be a doctor someday.” He grins smugly.</p><p>Evan looks to Landon, who has sat himself down in the chair and begun miserably eating his salad. “But what if he doesn’t want to be a doctor? What if he wants to be an artist, or a chef, or, or a lawyer?”</p><p>Mark sets his jaw. “You can’t make any money in the creative industries. A lawyer would be… acceptable.”</p><p>“But, money isn’t everything. Maybe he’d rather have a passion for his work than be rich?”</p><p>“He’s going to be a doctor, he’s not going to be weak. He’ll be able to support himself and his family, instead of struggling to get by.”</p><p>Evan scoffs. “What, you mean like me? Like me and mom?” Mark looks down at his plate. “Just because we weren’t loaded with money doesn’t mean we weren’t happy. I think, I think I turned out pretty okay.”</p><p>“Oh please,” Mark mutters.</p><p>Connor begins to say something, but Evan talks over him. “I did! Because yeah I have anxiety and I struggle with stuff but it’s not like I’m, like I’m a criminal or addicted to crack or something! I get good grades, I have a group of friends who I love, I volunteer on the weekends with the Environmental Club! I’m a good person, Dad. You would know that if you bothered to know me at all.”</p><p>“It’s not about being a good person, kiddo –”</p><p>“I’m not your ‘kiddo’, stop calling me that!” Evan pushes his chair back and stands suddenly. “I have a name, I have <em>your</em> name, and I <em>hate it!</em> Do you know how much it sucks to be named after a loser who never loved you? Who called you retarded? You were so ashamed of me, so ashamed to be my father, father to Evan, Anxiety Boy. You left as soon as you had the chance.”</p><p>“Evan –” Connor reaches out to him.</p><p>“No! I’m, I’m so sick of not being wanted. You never wanted me, Dad. Admit it.”</p><p>Mark purses his lips. “Fine, I didn’t want you. Are you happy now? Is that what you wanted to hear?”</p><p>It <em>is </em>what Evan wanted to hear, but it still breaks his heart. Landon starts crying. Brook picks him up and takes him out of the room. Evan can hear Landon ask through the sobs, “Why are they fighting? Did I do something wrong?” And Evan’s heart breaks a little more.</p><p>“Your mom got pregnant and I wasn’t ready to be a father. It wasn’t the plan.”</p><p>“You say that like it was Mom’s fault. <em>She </em>got pregnant. Well, I didn’t have a dad around to tell me about the birds and the bees, but I’m pretty sure it takes two people to have a baby! And you know what? Sometimes, things don’t go according to plan! You’re supposed to suck it up! Remember how you used to tell me to suck it up? ‘Don’t be such a baby.’ Well, I <em>was </em>a baby, Dad! And, and so is Landon! He should be allowed to be a kid, be treated like a kid, because he <em>is one.</em> But you don’t see that, do you? He’s just another person to boss around, another person to disappoint you because your expectations are too fucking high!”</p><p>Mark stands and slams his palms down on the table. Evan doesn’t flinch this time. “You don’t talk to me that way, not in my own damn house.”</p><p>Evan narrows his eyes. “You don’t see me as a person, do you? A real person, with feelings? You don’t see anyone as people.”</p><p>“Be quiet!”</p><p>“No! You can’t push me around anymore, Dad! I’m not a little kid. I’m an adult. And I’m, and I’m –” Evan straightens his shoulders and stands tall. “And I’m done with you.”</p><p>Evan’s ears are ringing, so if Mark says somethingback, Evan doesn’t hear it. He turns and walks out of the room, down the hallway, and into the guest bedroom.</p><p>He closes the door slowly behind him, sits on the side of the bed, and carefully places his head in his hands. He’s a crazy person, he must be. Who would go and yell at their dad in front of his family? Who would accuse their own father as not seeing people as <em>people?</em> He’s truly gone and blown it. He’d overreacted so badly. Why? Why is he so sensitive? Maybe his dad was right all along. Why is he so stupid?</p><p>Mark will probably never want to see him again. Landon, too. Oh god, Landon. Evan thinks of how upset Landon looked when the yelling broke out. Poor Landon. Evan’s ruined his life, too, probably scarred him, because Landon’s probably never seen anyone as crazy as Evan. Evan will have to apologize to him tomorrow, make sure he’s okay, tell him it wasn’t his fault.</p><p>But for now, Evan’s too tired. He’s too tired to fight the tears that start stinging at the corners of his eyes. Evan tries to breathe, but it comes out more like a strangled sob.</p><p>He can hear Connor yelling something, but it’s warbled, coming to Evan through several walls. Evan closes his eyes and drowns the sound out. Tear drops stain his knees. He focuses on the heaviness of his limbs, the salt water on his lips, the pounding in his head.</p><p>The lights flick on when Connor comes into the room. He takes one look at Evan and walks away. He must think Evan is a crazy person, too.</p><p>Somehow that hurts more than everything else that’s happened today.</p><p>But then he’s back and handing Evan his pajamas. It’s only seven o’clock. Evan takes them and looks up at Connor miserably. “Put those on and do whatever else you need to do before bed,” he says simply and begins to strip off his own shirt.</p><p>Evan momentarily forgets his tears as he looks abruptly away, forehead hot. He timidly follows Connor’s lead, brushing his teeth and climbing into the bed next to Connor. He’s already beginning to forget the events of tonight with his focus on getting ready for bed. Connor turns the lights off, lays next to Evan, and pulls up Netflix on his phone. “What do you want to watch?”</p><p>“I dunno. Whatever you wanna watch, I guess.”</p><p>“Well, I want to watch whatever you want to watch.”</p><p>Evan chuckles a little. “We’re not gonna get anywhere this way.”</p><p>Connor shuffles a little closer to Evan. “Give me a genre.”</p><p>Evan gulps. “Um, maybe, like, a romcom?” He’s embarrassed to ask it out loud, but Connor doesn’t tease him. He just starts flicking through available romantic comedies until Evan points one out.</p><p>And by the time Sandra Bullock and Hugh Grant fall in love, Evan feels a little lighter. He remembers that sometimes people can have happy endings, even if everything seems bleak, that the world isn’t just misery.</p><p>It’s still relatively early, but Evan begins to feel himself drift as the credits roll. He burrows into the sheets, getting comfortable on his side. Connor shifts next to him and places a hand on Evan’s hip. “Evan?”</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“Can we, I mean, would it be alright if I, if I get closer?” Evan hesitates. “No funny business, I promise.”</p><p>Evan snorts. “Okay.”</p><p>Connor presses his body against Evan’s, pulling Evan in against his chest and placing his hand over Evan’s abdomen. Evan’s eyelids flutter, nervous, but then… he kind of likes it. He likes the closeness right now, like he’s being cradled in soft warmth.</p><p>It’s quiet in the house. Landon has likely gone to bed already, and Brook and Mark are probably doing some quiet evening activity. Building a puzzle. Reading the news. Drinking herbal tea. A sort of domestic bliss that Evan hopes he’ll have someday.</p><p>“I’m sorry that happened.”</p><p>Evan breathes out slowly. “S’not your fault.”</p><p>Connor moves his hand from Evan’s stomach to his hair, caressing it lightly. “I know. I’m still sorry.”</p><p>Evan hums quietly, enjoying the soothing fingers through his locks. “I just wish things were different. I wish I could change how he looks at me. What he thinks of me.”</p><p>Connor presses a gentle kiss to Evan’s shoulder and pulls Evan tightly to his chest again. “Don’t try to change the things you have no control over. You’ll only end up tired and frustrated. Focus on what <em>can </em>be changed, like your feelings, your actions. You can change those. You can’t change him, or his feelings, or his actions. But you can accept it, accept him, and let it go. ‘If you look for perfection, you’ll never be content.’”</p><p>Evan feels a small grin tug at his lips. “When did you get so good at advice?”</p><p>Connor laughs into his hair. His breath tickles Evan’s neck. “That’s actually something my therapist told me a while back. And also a quote from <em>Anna Karenina</em>.”</p><p>“Oh. Still good, though.”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>It’s quiet again. Evan slips his hand into Connor’s. Connor presses his nose into Evan’s neck, giving him another small kiss. It <em>does</em> things to Evan.</p><p>But if Connor notices Evan’s heartrate pick up, or that he suddenly feels extremely sweaty, he doesn’t say anything. Evan feels him smile against his neck and whisper, “Goodnight, Ev.”</p><p>Evan sighs contentedly at the nickname. “Goodnight, Connor.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sometimes I just wanna take Evan by the shoulders and shake him and say “YOUR FEELINGS ARE VALID” ugh</p><p>Did anyone else play the way Landon plays when they were a kid? Like, creating storylines that continue through several play sessions? I remember being in the middle of an intense conflict between my toys when I was called away for dinner, and I had to “pause” playing and return to the story later.</p><p>Also, okay, like, I KNOW Evan is such an IDIOT. Like CLEARLY he’s interested in Connor, so why can’t he just frickin realize it??? Well, Evan is stupid. And sometimes being stupid is the only way you can learn. I’ve been bisexual my entire life, but despite having multiple crushes on same gendered people AND having kissed multiple same gendered people, it took me twenty years to realize. And then it took me another year or so to actually come to terms with it and realize “Oh, yeah, I guess that was actually a crush and not just a deep admiration for that certain person.” And it’s been several years since then and I’m still not fully “out”. So, yeah. Sometimes it’s a long process. I guess this story is kind of based on my own experiences.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Quiet Darkness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>it’s kind of all downhill from here, sorry. also, if I haven't said it enough, I fuckin love writing for Jared.</p><p>Chapter warnings: swearing, verbal fighting, panic attacks, toxic self-criticism</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“It is Wednesday, my dude!” Jared lets out a high-pitched screeching noise in the middle of the hallway, and Evan somehow becomes embarrassed <em>for</em> him.</p><p>“Would you. Shush? Please?” Evan ducks his gaze as their peers glance over, realize that Jared is being an idiot as usual, and go back to their own lives.</p><p>Jared punches his arm – hard. “You love it.” Evan doesn’t respond. “What is <em>up</em>, man? I feel like I haven’t talked to you for, like, five chapters.”</p><p>Evan shrugs, choosing to ignore Jared’s strange remark. “Same old same old, I guess. I’m not, uh, very exciting, you know?”</p><p>“True. What’d you do over break? ‘Apocalypse of the Damned’ came out and I called you to come over to, you know, play it? You didn’t answer.”</p><p>“Right, yeah, I went to, um, Colorado?”</p><p>Jared gives him a quizzical look. “To, like, visit your dad?”</p><p>Evan blinks, slightly taken aback that Jared remembers his dad lives in Colorado. “Yeah, kind of, I guess? I mean, I spent like a day with him. It didn’t, uh…” Evan doesn’t want to talk about Mark. “I actually went to Rocky Mountain? Connor and I went and got a cabin and went hiking and stuff.” Evan thinks back to that night on the couch. His ears burn, and Evan turns his face into his locker to hide his embarrassment. “It was… nice.”</p><p>“Dude, you spent a week in a cabin with Connor? That is <em>so</em> gay!” Jared almost chokes on his laughter.</p><p>Evan gasps, “You know I’m not… Be realistic.”</p><p>“Hey, there is nothing <em>unrealistic </em>about the love one man feels for another!” Jared teases him.</p><p>“Stop it! Stop, please.” Evan braces himself against the lockers. His stomach burns, like he might vomit.</p><p>“Dude, it was a joke?”</p><p>Evan feels a spark of irritation. He knows it was a joke, but Jared <em>always </em>does this. He <em>always</em> plays it off as a joke, he never apologizes. He never realizes how his words affect people. Or he does, and he just doesn’t care.</p><p>But Evan knows it was a joke. And he’s too afraid to say anything. “I know, I’m sorry.” It just comes out. <em>Maybe,</em> Evan thinks, <em>maybe I’m just being too sensitive.</em></p><p>“Cool,” Jared moves on. “So you wanna come over after school to play Apocalypse? I’m already on level 9, The Cafetorium! But it’s really best as a two-player game.”</p><p>Evan turns, headed to class. “Sure, Jared,” he mumbles, tiredly. Jared yells after him to meet him at the school entrance after the last bell. Evan waves nonchalantly, acknowledging Jared’s plan.</p><p>–</p><p>When the third period bell rings, Evan feels his phone buzz in his pocket.</p><p>
  <em>Connor: meet me in the comp lab. bring ur lunch</em>
</p><p>Evan’s heart jumps. A secret meeting with Connor? Evan can’t stop the smile that pulls at the corners of his mouth. He ducks and dodges through the crowd in the hallway, puts his books into his locker, and makes his way to the computer lab, making himself as small as possible so that no one will notice him. When he opens the door to the computer lab, he sees him.</p><p>Connor looks up, panicking momentarily until he sees that it’s Evan, and relaxes. “Hey.”</p><p>“Hey.”</p><p>They grin at each other like a couple of idiots.</p><p>“Wanna sit?”</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>It’s dark in the computer lab. They’re not really supposed to be in here during lunch, so they sit on the floor behind one of the desks, making sure to stay out of view of the door and windows. Evan pulls out his packed lunch, and Connor begins rummaging through his bag to find his. Without looking up, Connor hands Evan a granola bar with chocolate drizzle. Evan takes it with some confusion.</p><p>“What’s this for?”</p><p>“Hm?” Connor continues to pull out various food items and places them around him. An apple. A sandwich. A bag of chips.</p><p>“Why did you give this to me?” Evan’s a bit frozen in place.</p><p>“What are you talking about?”</p><p>Evan huffs a little exasperatedly. “The granola bar? You just gave it to me?”</p><p>Finally, Connor looks up. He looks from Evan to the granola bar in Evan’s hand and back to Evan, eyebrows furrowed. He almost seems like he hadn’t even realized he’d given the granola bar to Evan. “Don’t you like them?”</p><p>Evan blinks. “Well, yeah, but you just handed it to me? Don’t you want to eat it?”</p><p>Connor takes a bite of his apple, “Meh. I’m not really a big fan of sweet stuff.”</p><p>Evan laughs a little, still confused. “Then why’d you pack it?”</p><p>“Because you like them,” Connor says this as if it should have been obvious.</p><p>Evan’s jaw drops, but Connor doesn’t notice. He’s too busy telling Evan about his morning: the awful music that Zoe made him listen to on the drive to school, the fact that he got chewed out by Mrs. Jacobsen for not doing the homework over spring break, the mile that Coach made them run in P.E. that was total torture, and how he’d so much rather be back in Colorado with Evan.</p><p>Evan listens halfheartedly; most of his focus goes to calming his nerves. The granola bar. It’s such a simple, stupid thing. But no one’s ever done something like that for Evan before? No one’s ever really noticed things about Evan like that before? Except for maybe Maisie Gartland in the first grade. She’d brought Oreos in her lunch everyday and always shared them with Evan. But she’d just done that because she had a crush on Evan, as Evan had found out that Valentine’s Day when she’d asked him to be her boyfriend via homemade card with glitter. Evan told her no as kindly as he could, that he liked her as a friend.</p><p>He didn’t get any more Oreos after that.</p><p>But is that kind of thing happening again? Or is Connor just being nice? Does Connor like Evan, like that? No, that’s ridiculous. Evan quickly dismisses the thought. If Connor liked Evan, Evan would know. Because Connor wouldn’t hide something like that. Connor’s the kind of person who would just come right out and say it. Plus, Evan’s not even sure that Connor likes guys.</p><p>Evan takes a bite out of the granola bar. Yeah, it meant nothing. Just like the whole kissing ordeal meant nothing. Connor had made that clear. It didn’t mean anything, it was just to help Evan out.</p><p>And Evan knows Connor said he likes kissing him, but why? Why did Connor kiss him in Colorado?</p><p>“ – I mean, that’s just ridiculous, right?”</p><p>Evan looks up, realizing that Connor is still talking to him. “Huh? Oh, yeah… totally ridiculous.” Evan has no idea what he’s just agreed to, but it seems to placate Connor, who continues talking.</p><p>“Who in their right mind would actually believe that <em>The Great Gatsby</em> is better than <em>The Sun Also Rises</em>? Come on, that’s so supercilious. And I tried to explain that to Jacobsen, but she won’t listen. She just kept saying that the school board approved Gatsby so that’s what we’re reading. I swear, our academic system is trying to brainwash us by controlling how we think and what we learn. We should be learning about <em>everything</em>, so that we can make our own decisions and perceptions of the world, right? Like, how are we supposed to practice tolerance if we’re only taught one way of thinking? It’s totally fucked, man.”</p><p>“Right, yeah.” Evan still has no idea what Connor’s talking about, but he seems pretty passionate about it. “So, like, what’s the difference between them? The books?”</p><p>Connor’s eyes light up. “Oh, dude, okay, so like, they’re set in the same era, right? The twenties? But Gatsby takes place in America and it’s all about some guy who throws all these lavish parties and shit to get this girl’s attention, but it’s all lies and deception. And the narrator is really no better than Gatsby, he just kind of lets himself get swept up in the romanticization. But Sun Also Rises? Takes place in Spain, and it parallels the morals and ethics of bull fighting with the morals and ethics of humanity and the extravagant way of life in the twenties. Like, the dichotomy of human interest and the right thing to do. And the characters? So much better fleshed out.”</p><p>Evan bobs his head along as Connor speaks. He doesn’t really care about the books, but he likes the way Connor talks about them. Like he actually cares. Connor cares about a lot of things. It’s refreshing.</p><p>“Of course, both books could really just nix the main love interest. They’re both really shallow and annoying. But I guess they kind of embody the superficial mindset of people during that era…”</p><p>Connor eventually talks himself into a circle, pointing out the good and bad in both books. He scratches behind his ear frustratedly when he realizes that his feud with Mrs. Jacobsen is futile anyways, and he moves on to telling Evan about other books that take place during the twenties that would be just as good to learn from.</p><p>Evan finishes his lunch and rests his chin in his hands, watching Connor talk in more circles fondly, smiling a bit when Connor contradicts himself.</p><p>When the first warning bell rings, Evan jumps, suddenly remembering that they’re at school. He’d gotten lost in Connor’s words, and it felt more like they’d been hanging out in Evan’s room. He rubs his eyes and stuffs his trash into his backpack. He’s halfway into a standing position when Connor catches his arm, pulling him back down, and Evan stumbles into Connor’s lap.</p><p>“Well, that works.”</p><p>“Wha- What’d’you mean?”</p><p>Connor runs one hand through Evan’s hair and pulls Evan closer with his other. His eyes dart to Evan’s lips. Evan feels a bit like he’s dreaming. He can’t say how long they sat like that, looking at each other through a curtain of eyelashes, close enough to smell Connor’s shampoo. “Can I?”</p><p>Connor asks. Ever since Colorado, he asks.</p><p>Evan doesn’t bother answering, instead closing the space between them. It’s quick and chaste, because the second bell rings, and Evan begins to pull away. They both stand, and Connor pulls him in for one more kiss. “Meet me after school?”</p><p>Evan nods, breathless.</p><p>“Cool.” Connor gives him a lopsided grin and saunters out of the computer lab, and Evan follows a moment later, after he’s sure the pinkness has faded from his cheeks.</p><p>–</p><p>That afternoon found Evan and Connor sitting on Evan’s couch, with Evan in Connor’s lap. The moment they’d stepped foot into the house, Connor dragged them to the living room and pulled Evan on top of him. Evan’s found he quite likes it there. He gets to be held by Connor, but he also feels like he has some control.</p><p>They’d been in this position for too long and not long enough. Evan plays with Connor’s hair, realizing, not for the first time, just how soft it is. He notices the way Connor’s shoulders slump in relaxation when Evan scratches his scalp lightly. He notices how, despite Connor’s lean frame, his legs are strong and sturdy beneath Evan. He notices the weight of Connor’s hands on his shoulders, fingernails digging slightly into Evan’s shirt. And then he stops noticing these things and just lets himself get swept up into the moment.</p><p>Connor slips his hands down Evan’s sides, coming to a stop on Evan’s thighs and pulling Evan flush against him. Evan gasps at the sudden full-body contact, but then he slips his arms around Connor and pulls him in even tighter, loving the feeling of every inch of himself touching every inch of Connor.</p><p>He can feel himself getting hard – it doesn’t take much to get Evan excited, he’s noticed. But he can feel Connor against him as well, so he doesn’t let it bother him too much. So long as he’s not alone in this.</p><p>Evan lets out a broken sigh when Connor kisses him just below his jawline. “Why do I like kissing you so much?” Evan mumbles, barely aware of what he’s saying.</p><p>“Probably because you’re gay for me,” Connor murmurs back, nibbling on his neck.</p><p>Evan throws his eyes open. The excitement is gone, the moment is lost. In fact, he’s pretty sure his heart has stopped. <em>Gay</em>. There’s that word again. Zoe had said it, and his dad, and Mom, and Jared. Jared says it a lot. And there’s that fear again. What is this fear? Evan doesn’t know, but he knows that he doesn’t want that label associated with him. “I’m not gay.”</p><p>“Okay, bi, then. Pan. I don’t particularly care,” Connor continues kissing him, but Evan has stopped reciprocating.</p><p>“I care.”</p><p>Connor finally stops, blinking out of his reverie. “What’s the matter?”</p><p>Evan looks into Connor’s eyes. He can see some concern in them, though not much. Mostly, he just sees Connor’s lust, eagerness to continue kissing, urging this conversation along just to get it over with. And he sees his own fear reflected back at him. “I, I don’t know. I’m not gay, that’s all, I guess. I wish people would stop saying that I am.”</p><p>“People?”</p><p>“Well, Jared mostly. But it still bugs me. I’m not gay.”</p><p>Connor frowns. “Okay, so you’re not gay. I get it. Good now?” Connor leans back in, but Evan pushes him away.</p><p>“No, not ‘good now’.” Evan’s stomach clenches. He’s too close to Connor now, it’s suffocating. “I… I don’t want to do this anymore.” Evan climbs off Connor’s lap and takes a couple steps away, trying to keep his breathing level.</p><p>Connor narrows his eyes and stands. “What’s going on? What’s your problem?”</p><p><em>Problem</em>. What’s his <em>problem</em>. As if something is wrong with Evan. As if he isn’t normal. Evan blinks rapidly, trying to calm himself down. Evan is normal. He’s normal. As normal as can be, albeit a little anxious sometimes, a little depressed, and sometimes he gets angry but he’s not sure why. He gets scared, and too afraid to face his fears. He stutters sometimes, if he gets overwhelmed or nervous. But he’s <em>normal</em>. “Nothing. Nothing is my problem. I’m just not –”</p><p>“– Not gay, yeah, I heard. What’s wrong with being gay?” Connor crosses his arms, taking a defensive posture.</p><p>“Nothing! Nothing’s wrong with being gay! People can be gay, that’s fine.”</p><p>“So, people can be gay, but not you?”</p><p>Evan takes a step back. “Right. I’m not. I can’t be.”</p><p>Evan sees something flash in Connor's eyes. Something like anger. “You <em>can’t </em>be? What the hell does that mean?”</p><p>Evan splutters, “Just, that I’m not, okay? What’s your deal? Why does this matter so much?”</p><p>“Because you’re clearly not okay with people being gay. You’re scared of it.”</p><p>“I am not!”</p><p>“Would it be so bad? What’s so wrong with it? Do you care that I’m gay?”</p><p>This was news to Evan. Well, he’d suspected, but he was never sure. Connor had teased the truth, said things that might indicate his sexuality in passing, but he hadn’t ever explicitly said that he was gay. “No, it’s fine, that’s great! For you! You’re gay, yay, right?” Evan rubs his forehead and says, mostly to himself, “<em>Jesus</em>, what’s happening?”</p><p>Connor purses his lips, eyes narrow. “Oh my god. You’re homophobic.”</p><p>“I’m not –”</p><p>“No, stop. You are. You might not think you are, but you’re clearly internally homophobic. And making out with a gay guy. Wow,” Connor huffs. “This is a real trip.” Connor snatches up his backpack and moves to leave.</p><p>“Connor, wait –” Evan reaches out for him, not sure of what to say, not sure of what’s really happening. All he said was that he isn’t gay. He just wanted to establish that. Why is Connor getting so mad?</p><p>Connor dodges Evan’s grasp. “No. Get away from me, fucking <em>freak</em>.”</p><p>Evan gasps and goes still. Connor stomps out of the room, and Evan hears the front door slam and Connor’s car start up, driving away.</p><p><em>Freak</em>? Evan puts his hands on his head, trying to figure out his thoughts, trying to get his brain to slow down a bit. But it’s not slowing down. Why won’t it slow down? What was he thinking about? Where’s Connor? Wasn’t he here just a moment ago? Evan’s head is swirling and his nose and cheeks are tingling, he doesn’t notice how his throat begins to scream from lack of moisture, but he’s breathing in and out too fast, too erratic, to properly wet his mouth. His lungs hurt from rapid use, and Evan drops to his knees, no longer able to support himself standing up, and his head feels like it’s going to float away but it also feels like it weighs a thousand pounds. Evan’s hands slam onto the hard wood floor in order to prevent diving nose-first to the ground, and his palms tingle from the slap of solid surface. It’s happening again, and it hasn’t happened in so long. But it’s all too familiar, and Evan knows what comes next. His ears start ringing, his vision goes from blurry to a dark vignette, and all the while his chest heaves up and down. And it’s only another moment until Evan flops to the floor completely, finally losing his vision and consciousness.</p><p>–</p><p>Evan wakes up to a door slamming shut. He flinches reflexively, thinking maybe Connor’s come back to fight some more. Or beat him up. Or kill him. But when he opens his eyes, it’s clear that several hours have passed – it’s completely dark in the room. He must’ve taken a nap after his panic attack; his bones and muscles ache as he wipes the sleep from his eyes. He can hear Heidi bustling through the kitchen. She calls out to him, asking about his day. It’s not Connor. Evan’s lower lip wobbles slightly, his eyes begin to sting with hot tears. He wraps his arms around himself and stands slowly, walking on shaky legs to his bedroom. He just wants to go to bed. He feels numb, exhausted, confused, angry. He doesn’t want to be awake anymore.</p><p>He hadn’t meant to hurt Connor. He’s not even sure how it happened. All he’d said was that he wasn’t gay. How is that an insult to Connor? Why is Connor taking this so personally? Why does Evan feel so awful about the whole thing?</p><p>When he gets to his room, he collapses onto the bed, letting the tears finally fall. But only a few find their way to his pillow. As much as he wants to cry, he can’t seem to get it out. So he lays on his bed, listening to his heart break in the quiet darkness of the room. He tentatively reaches his hand over to his nightstand, feeling around for his phone to check for the time. When he finds it, he sees several messages from Jared. Evan sits abruptly up.</p><p>
  <em>3:34 pm</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jared Kleinman: u comin?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>3:39 pm</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jared Kleinman: where r u</em>
</p><p>
  <em>3:41 pm</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jared Kleinman: evan?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>3:46 pm</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jared Kleinman: dont tell me ur with that long haired twink</em>
</p><p>
  <em>3:52 pm</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jared Kleinman: whatever. im leaving</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jared Kleinman: hope ur having fun w/ ur boyf</em>
</p><p>Evan feels like he can’t breathe. He’d promised Jared he’d come over today. He’d totally forgotten, he’d been too wrapped up in Connor. And now he feels even more like shit. He begins to respond when his phone lights up with another text.</p><p>
  <em>Connor: can we talk?</em>
</p><p>Evan’s hands tremble. He wants to. He wants to talk this over and fix things so badly. But another part of him fears Connor, scared of the way Connor makes him feel at times. He hesitates, then closes out the message to Jared and responds to Connor instead.</p><p>
  <em>Evan: ok</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Connor: come outside</em>
</p><p>Evan’s throat closes suddenly. Outside? He peeks timidly out his window, down to the driveway, where he spots Connor’s car. Evan ducks back down, hoping that Connor wasn’t looking in Evan’s window at that particular moment. The car couldn’t have been there before. His mom would have said something.</p><p>Evan realizes that he doesn’t really want to see Connor right now. He thought maybe they’d talk over text, or maybe Connor would say they should make plans to talk tomorrow. He hadn’t expected Connor to be here, not after their fight and Evan’s subsequent panic attack. His brain buzzes with what Connor might want to say. Maybe he doesn’t want to be friends anymore. Maybe he wants to tell Evan that he’s a freak and that the world would be better with him dead. Maybe he’ll tell Evan that he never really liked him, anyway. That he just took pity on him, the poor anxiety boy who can’t hold himself together, who’s so fucked up that he has to write letters to himself for a pep talk. Evan, who’s emotionally stunted because he relied on Ativan constantly for so many years. Evan, who’s a sad, desperate loser. A small sob escapes his mouth. The words still hurt.</p><p>Evan holds himself for a few minutes, unable to respond to Connor. <em>It’s fine,</em> he tells himself. <em>It’s just Connor, he’s your best friend, it’s fine.</em> He can feel himself spiraling again, so he takes some time focusing on his breathing and relaxing the tension in his body. Finally, he responds to Connor, and his stomach flip flops as he makes his way quietly down the stairs, careful to avoid piquing the interest of Heidi.</p><p>Evan opens the front door and sees Connor – he looks just as bad as Evan feels. When he sees Evan, Connor’s red-rimmed eyes fill with tears, and he reaches out for a hug. Evan wavers; he’s stuck between not being in the mood to be touched and wanting to comfort his best friend. Ultimately, he decides to sacrifice his own comfort.</p><p>Connor holds him tightly and buries his face in Evan’s shoulder. He pulls in a ragged breath and whispers, “I’m sorry. I don’t… I don’t know what came over me. I should, should’ve been more supportive. I-I mean, you’re clearly still figuring it out, and I shouldn’t’ve pushed my own sexuality on you. I should’ve been more supportive, we’ve only been dating for like a week and I’m already fucking shit up.”</p><p>Evan pulls away abruptly. “Wait, what? Dating?”</p><p>Connor wipes his eyes and rambles, “Yeah, I’m just, just so sorry, I can’t do anything right. It just felt like, like you were denying this whole thing, and I got angry because, I think because I started to feel invalid, and it’s just this whole thing, I’m just a mess, I’m sorry.”</p><p>Evan’s mind is racing, playing back the last few weeks. They’re dating? Since when does Connor think they’re dating? Evan tries to think of something he might’ve said to prompt Connor to think that, but he’s coming up blank. “How – wh-why do you think…” He’s trying to come up with the best way to phrase it. “Just… what do you mean, dating?”</p><p>Connor looks up from rubbing his face. “That… we’re dating. Obviously.”</p><p>Evan shakes his head. “No… not ‘obviously.’ Since when?”</p><p>“Since Colorado? That night… on the couch. I thought…” Connor’s eyebrows crease.</p><p>Evan shakes his head again. “I didn’t… I’ve never –”</p><p>“I mean, I think I’ve made it pretty obvious, my feelings for you. I thought that night… I thought that was your way of telling me you feel the same way.”</p><p>Evan takes a step back, processing. Did Evan… no, that’s impossible. Evan doesn’t like Connor that way. Sure, he thinks Connor can be adorable sometimes, and he has really beautiful eyes, and he's always there for Evan, and he makes Evan laugh, and overall just makes Evan a better person, but Evan doesn't like Connor that way. Because if Evan likes Connor, that means that Evan likes boys. And Evan’s never liked boys that way. So if Evan likes boys that way, that means that Evan doesn’t remotely know himself. That means that Evan’s whole concept of himself is wrong. And that thought is too frightening to process. Because that means that Evan has to figure out who he is, what he wants, and Evan doesn’t think he’s able to tear down the life he’s been living in order to do that.</p><p>So Evan shakes his head some more. “I don’t… I didn’t mean to insinuate… We’re not dating.”</p><p>Connor recoils. “I guess I…. just assumed. I should’ve asked, properly.” Connor laughs a little and blushes. Like, he actually <em>blushes. </em>Which is, like, Evan’s job. Evan’s the one who blushes too much. Connor clears his throat uncomfortably, “Well, I guess then, do you, uh, would you want to go out with me?”</p><p>Evan steps away again. No, no, <em>no</em>, this isn’t what he wants. He wants things to stay the same. He doesn’t want things to change. “I-I’m sorry, I…” Evan places a hand over his mouth, his fingers trembling. “I shouldn’t’ve kissed you… This was a mistake…”</p><p>Evan can see Connor’s eyes widen. He takes a step towards Evan. “No, this isn’t… Evan, this wasn’t a mistake. We’re meant to… I mean, I care about you, so much, I just need you to… to know that I care about you, and I need to know that you care about me. I, I care about you so fucking much, it’s crazy, really, it hurts sometimes, how much, and I can’t, I can’t lose you –” Evan can’t listen to this anymore. His heart is beating too erratically, his palms are sweating too much, his brain is working too fast. He takes a few more steps away and jumps when Connor grabs his arm. “No – stop running away from this! I’m… I may not be a safe place to land but take a chance on me. Take a chance, Evan.”</p><p>“N-no, I can’t, it’s not, this isn’t, isn’t right –”</p><p>“Tell me how this isn’t right!” Connor grasps his hands. “Tell me that it isn’t right that my brain never seems to shut up, I can’t sleep, but you’re the only person who’s been able to make the voices in my head sing instead of scream. Tell me that it’s wrong that you’re the only person who doesn’t try to fix me, but you make me want to fix myself. Tell me how it’s wrong to love you.”</p><p>Evan feels his throat close up. “L-love me? No one said anything about, about love,” Evan attempts to pull away, feeling overwhelmed. Connor is too much, he can’t handle or process all of this information right now. He has to get out of here – Connor is scaring him.</p><p>“I thought it was obvious! Why else would I be here every day? Why else would I kiss you?”</p><p>Evan pulls at Connor’s hands, trying to release himself. “I, I thought we were just really good friends!”</p><p>Connor’s eyes are pleading with him now. “I know, and we are! But I – I love you, Evan. I can’t face the world without you, and I know, I know that sounds pathetic, and <em>so</em> cliché, but it’s the truth.” Connor holds onto Evan more tightly, accidentally digging his fingernails into Evan’s skin.</p><p>Evan sucks in a breath through his teeth. “Ah, Con-nor, you’re hurting me,” Evan whimpers. Connor’s eyes widen, seeming to understand what he’s doing to Evan, and abruptly lets him go. Evan nearly falls over backwards from being released while trying to pull away. He rubs his wrist and glances at Connor, who looks mortified.</p><p>“Evan, I’m sorry, oh god, I’m sorry –”</p><p>Evan studies Connor – taking in his hunched posture, his hands held close to his chest, his fear-stricken eyes – and Evan stares at his wrist – several new red scratches bloom where his skin is broken – and Evan wonders if Connor is even more messed up than Evan is. Evan wonders if the rumors about Connor, the ones that spread around their school about Connor being unstable, psychotic, manic, are actually true. Evan wonders if he ever really knew Connor at all.</p><p>Connor is still rambling, apologizing profusely, when Evan murmurs, “Go away, please.” He cradles his wrist in his hand as it begins to sting.</p><p>Connor stops abruptly, looking him over. “No, Evan, please, I’m sorry, just, just give us a chance, one chance, I can change –”</p><p>Evan closes his eyes. “Please. Please, go away.”</p><p>Connor takes one step back. Then another. Then something in his expression breaks, he looks adamant, and he marches forward, invading Evan’s space. “No, I’m, I’m so sick of denying it, so tired of hiding who I am, pretending to be something I’m not. Evan, I can’t do this anymore. Either, either we’re together… or we’re not. That’s just, that’s just how it has to be. I can’t keep pining after you, it’s driving me nuts, I can’t think straight, so, so I need you to tell me you want me too, or let me go. Let me move on.”</p><p>Evan winces and looks at the ground. At their feet. At Connor’s Doc Martin’s, pointed directly at Evan, and at Evan’s generic sneakers, pointed away from Connor. He doesn’t want this, doesn’t want this, just wants things to go back to how they were. He’s too afraid to ask if they can go back to how they were. When they would sit at the dining table, and Connor would bring dinner, and Evan would lean close to explain a math problem and try not to get distracted by Connor’s hair tickling his cheek. When they’d eat lunch together, and he’d watch Connor and Jared snub each other, and sometimes if Evan was having a bad day, Connor’s hand would find his under the table, just to let Evan know that he’s there, he’s real, he cares. When they would lounge around talking about a movie they’d watched, or Connor would tick off random facts, like how Elvis had a twin brother, or he’d comfort Evan because Evan is a mess but Connor took care of him because he was Connor’s.</p><p>No matter what Evan says, it’ll never be the same again. And rather than dive into uncharted territory, Evan would rather be sad and alone, because he knows how to do that. And before he even answers, Evan already misses Connor and the way they used to be. Because Evan knows what his answer is.</p><p>“I don’t love you,” Evan keeps his eyes trained on their shoes as he whispers. Connor’s Doc Martin’s stay in front of Evan for a moment, and Evan wonders if maybe Connor changed his mind, decided that he’s okay if things go back to the way they were.</p><p>But then the Doc Martin’s turn and stalk down the driveway, and they disappear into a car.</p><p>Evan shrinks to his knees, whispering <em>I’m sorry</em> over and over. But the slam of a car door and the rev of an engine drown him out. And then Evan is hunched over, alone, in the quiet darkness of his driveway.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>so who caught my Be More Chill references?</p><p>Connor: take a chance on me!<br/>My brain: *ABBA at max volume* TAKE A CHANCE TAKE A CHANCE HONEY I'M STILL FREE TAKE A CHANCE ON MEEEE</p><p>It took me a super long time to come to terms with my sexuality. I’m not even really sure why, it’s hard to explain. It scared me – not because I thought being bisexual was a bad thing, but because I’d always thought of myself as straight, it was just something I never questioned, and I was afraid to have to meet a new part of me. I think I was afraid of the fact that maybe I didn’t actually know who I was, and I was afraid of change. I felt really lost for a while, trying to figure out if I actually liked the same sex or if I just had a weird little crush on this one certain person. Eventually, I realized that this wasn’t a “new” part of me – I’d been bisexual my entire life, but I was only just realizing it. Again, I’m not really sure how to explain it, but this is what I wanted to write Evan’s experience as too.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Keep on Running</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Evan pretty much just takes his frustrations out on everyone he knows, whoops.</p>
<p>Chapter warnings: swearing, verbal fighting, is much angst</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You look like shit.”</p>
<p>Evan flinches. “Thanks, Jared.”</p>
<p>“Hey man, I’m just saying. Where were you yesterday? I waited.”</p>
<p>Evan closes his eyes, unwilling to remember the day before. “I… I just forgot. I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>“I texted you.”</p>
<p>Jared is pushing. Evan doesn’t feel like being pushed right now. “I forgot, Jared, jeez. Leave it alone.”</p>
<p>Jared eyes him warily. “Why are you acting like this? You’ve been weird, like, for months. We never hang out anymore, just the two of us. What’s going on?”</p>
<p>School just ended, and students filter through the hallway to the school entrance, all chattering and wrapped up in their own silly little lives. Evan eyes them as they pass by, all in groups or pairs. All belonging to something or someone. All with a purpose. Evan lets out a long breath. “I’m fine, Jared.”</p>
<p>“You’re clearly not.”</p>
<p>Evan shoots him a look. “What do you care?” Evan wants a fight. He wants to yell and scream and cry and throw stuff. He wants to feel something.</p>
<p>But Jared doesn’t take the bait. “If there’s ever anything you wanna talk about…”</p>
<p>Evan is caught off guard. It’s not like Jared to offer any form of compassion. Evan examines him. He seems sincere. Maybe, just this once, he can rely on his oldest friend to help him out. “I’ve been… I had a fight. With Connor. A big one.”</p>
<p>Jared nods. “You think you’re gonna break up?” He asks with a sly smile.</p>
<p>Evan knows it’s a joke. Evan knows that Jared doesn’t actually think Evan is dating Connor. Evan knows that Jared is only trying to lighten the mood. Too bad Evan isn’t in the mood for Jared’s antics. “Do you think this is a joke? Am I a joke to you?”</p>
<p>Jared, taken aback by the ferocity in Evan’s voice, quietly replies, “You’re not a joke.” Evan feels remorseful for a moment, until Jared opens his mouth again, “You have to be funny to be a joke.”</p>
<p>“What?” Evan asks incredulously, then turns and begins to storm away, unable to tolerate Jared anymore.</p>
<p>Jared scoffs and calls after him. “Oh come on, Evan, it was just –”</p>
<p>“– a joke?” Evan spins on his heel to face Jared. “Right. I should’ve known. You’re not capable of holding a serious conversation. Not even if our friendship depended on it.”</p>
<p>“Oh please.” Jared rolls his eyes, clearly starting to take offense to Evan’s attitude. “Don’t give me that. I know how much you depend on me to get through school. You’re too afraid to be left on your own, which is why you’ve clung to me since first grade. Without me, you’d be a total loner, probably freaking out every day at lunch trying to figure out where to sit.” Jared smirks a little as he says, “You’re totally weak, dude, it’s pathetic.”</p>
<p>Evan’s chest fills up with so much air – angry air, like a windstorm – and his eyes widen, his pupils shrink. “I can’t believe – you’re just –” Evan takes a second to huff the air out of his chest, but it only fills up again. He can barely get his words out, and they end up in a stream of noise, out of control like a balloon that’s been let loose in a small room. “Don’t assume I’m weak because I have panic attacks. You will never know the amount of strength it takes to face the world every day.” Evan’s hands keep forming and unforming fists, going from flexing his fingers to digging his nails into his palms. The pain anchors him a bit. Reminds him that he’s real, no matter how dizzy his head feels, no matter that he feels like he’s watching this fight from across the hall. No matter that he’s watching himself yell at Jared, wondering why the hell he’s fighting with his longest friend or what’s going through his head. It feels too surreal, and yet he watches himself continue to yell. “To deal with jerks like you, to confront things that the normal person wouldn’t think twice about, but that I overthink about for days. I can’t get out of bed in the morning without reminding myself not to ki- – without – without forcing myself to. You – you –” Evan breathes again, and this time his lungs don’t overfill with air. In fact, it feels like they’ve been deflated. “You have no idea, Jared.” Jared doesn’t respond, merely looking at Evan with a sort of shock, like he can’t believe that Evan just blew up at him in the middle of the school hallway. Evan begins to turn away again, but then thinks better of it, leaving Jared with a final thought. “And the worst part is? You have no idea, and you make no effort to understand. You say I’m pathetic? You’re the pathetic one. Pathetic,” Evan nearly spits, “and ignorant.”</p>
<p>They stand in the hallway for a moment more, neither making a move or a sound.</p>
<p>Evan’s eyes are pricking with hot tears. He knows he has to get out of here soon. He can’t let Jared see the tears he’s provoked. He sucks in his lower lip, which threatens to tremble. “Honestly, I feel sorry for you,” Evan whispers, and Jared blinks, mouth slightly open. Evan purses his lips and turns away again, this time not stopping on his way out of the entrance doors.</p>
<p>In the parking lot, he runs into Alana, literally. She gasps in discomfort and rubs her shoulder, and Evan feels smug that he is able to create pain for other people. Because Evan is sick, apparently, and he wants other people to feel the pain he feels.</p>
<p>But Alana smiles brightly when she sees it’s Evan. “Oh, Evan! Sorry I bumped into you, I didn’t see you!”</p>
<p>
  <em>I didn’t see you.</em>
</p>
<p>“You’re coming to the club meeting, right? We’re talking about the park cleanup we’re doing next weekend? Finalizing the details, stuff like that. Actually, I’m handing out flyers before the meeting to recruit some more students to help us out.” Alana waves a stack of papers she’s holding. “Wanna help?”</p>
<p>She’s too chipper, too happy. Why should she get to be happy when Evan isn’t? “No.”</p>
<p>Her smile falters a bit. “Oh, well, that’s, that’s okay, I guess. I get it, you’re busy! Busy, busy, busy! But you’ll be at the meeting, right? Kim had this great idea that we could –”</p>
<p>“Alana, <em>shut up</em>.”</p>
<p>Alana takes a few steps back, her eyes wide. “Wha- what?”</p>
<p>“You’re too happy, too friendly, it’s annoying. It makes people uncomfortable. You talk too much about stuff that you don’t even care about! You pretend to care about things so that people will like you. It’s fake. You’re fake, Alana. People don’t like fake people.”</p>
<p><em>What are you doing?</em> Evan asks himself. <em>What’s Alana done to deserve this? She’s been nothing but kind to you. She’s your friend. Why do you have to tear everyone down?</em></p>
<p>Alana looks so hurt. And shocked. That seems to be a theme for Evan today. She doesn’t look angry. She doesn’t fight back. She’s at a loss for words, her walls crumbling like Evan took a bulldozer to them.</p>
<p>Evan can’t watch it. He pushes past her and walks. He doesn’t know where he’s walking to, but he walks all the same. Anywhere is better than here.</p>
<p>–</p>
<p>When Evan finally finds his way home after walking through the neighborhood trying to calm his mind, Heidi greets him from where she sits on the couch, watching <em>Gilligan’s Island</em>. “Hey, hun, how was school?”</p>
<p>Evan thought he was feeling better. He thought it was over. But his mom is smiling at him like there isn’t a care in the world, and it just pisses him off all over again. “Fucking fantastic.”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>Evan’s not sure if she didn’t hear him over the tv, or if she can’t believe what she heard, but he repeats it. Loudly. “I said <em>fucking fantastic!”</em></p>
<p>Heidi narrows her eyes and mutes the television. “You want to try that again, one more time?”</p>
<p>“No, I don’t. Just leave me alone.” Evan turns up the stairs, stomping his feet down with all his might on each step. He slams the bedroom door. It doesn’t make him feel better. He picks up the pillows from his bed and throws them across the room. One hits his window blinds and makes them clatter, the other knocks the lamp from his desk and it lands on the floor with a dull <em>thud.</em> Unsatisfied, he throws his backpack against the wall, not caring that his laptop is inside, and the loud <em>bam</em> placates him slightly. He flops down onto his bed, seething.</p>
<p>Heidi throws his bedroom door open. “What the <em>hell</em> is going on?”</p>
<p>“<em>Go away.</em>” He doesn’t want her to go away. He wants her to hold him, tell him everything will be okay. But this anger has been building for months, he’s not even sure why, and now it needs to be released. It’s her fault that she’s home today, the one day when he’s in a bad mood.</p>
<p>“No, I’m not going away.”</p>
<p>“<em>I said go the fuck away,</em>” Evan spits.</p>
<p>Heidi’s hands are on her hips, her face stern. “Hey! We don’t speak to each other that way! Not in this house. What has gotten into you?”</p>
<p>“Oh please, don’t act like you care.” Evan knows that she cares. Knows that she does everything for him. But that doesn’t stop the words rolling off his tongue. “You don’t know anything about me. You’re never home enough to be an actual parent. You’re as bad as Dad.”</p>
<p>The words sting, Evan can see it. But Heidi holds her ground. “<em>Excuse me</em>? Do NOT compare me to your father. Do you know how much I’ve sacrificed for you? To make sure you were happy? To make sure you were healthy?”</p>
<p>Evan rolls his eyes. There she goes, bringing up his health. It’s all she ever knows to talk about. That, and college. “Oh, I’m <em>so sorry</em> you had to give up your life to raise me. I’m <em>so sorry </em>that I turned out to be such a burden! I didn’t ask to be born, you know! You could’ve just run off with dad when he left and put me in foster care, if you hated being around that much!”</p>
<p>“You’re twisting my words –”</p>
<p>“<em>Am I</em>, though? And another thing: who were you to decide that it was time for me to face my father, that asshole?” He’s been meaning to bring this up since they got home from Colorado, been meaning to tell her how unfair it was that she’d made that decision for him. “How could you think that was a good idea? That was <em>my</em> choice to make, <em>not yours.</em> That was for <em>me</em> to decide if and when I would see him again! You had no right to do that!”</p>
<p>“I am your <em>mother</em>, I had every right to do that! You might be eighteen now, Evan, but I am still your mother. You still live under my roof, and you do what I think is best for you!”</p>
<p>“So I just have no say? No say in my own life? It’s <em>my</em> life, Mom! Maybe I don’t <em>want</em> to go the therapy, take meds, maybe I don’t <em>want</em> to be ‘better!’ Maybe I’m fine with who I am, and it’s <em>you</em> who has the problem! Maybe I don’t <em>want </em>to go to college, ever think of that? Did you ever ask my opinion? No, because it’s the <em>Heidi Show</em>, and you don’t give a shit about how I feel just so long as I follow your little plan for me, so that I turn out better than you, because you’re a fucking mess!” Evan’s voice breaks. None of this is true. He doesn’t believe a word that’s coming out of his mouth. But he’s choosing the words that will do the most harm. He wants to break down everyone around him, because Evan is a disgusting, awful person that no one should care about, no one should try to love him. “I wish I was born into a different family, like the Murphy’s,” Evan mumbles.</p>
<p>Heidi scoffs. “So <em>that’s </em>what this boils down to? Well, I’m sorry that I’m not enough for you, Evan! I’m sorry that I’ve had it rough, that I had to work overtime for ten years and find a degree that I could work towards that would maybe make our lives a little easier but that still left enough time to let me see you grow up! I’m sorry that I couldn’t provide a perfect family, like you seem to think the Murphy’s are. You want me to just step back and let you run everything? Well <em>fine</em>,” Heidi turns to leave. “You win, Evan. You’re finally free from this agonizing life that I’ve given you.”</p>
<p>With that, she slams the door shut.</p>
<p>And Evan sinks into his bed, shoulders shaking with so much pent up fury and guilt, and Evan doesn’t know how to handle this alone. But Evan wraps his arms around himself because “alone” is all Evan has anymore.</p>
<p>–</p>
<p>“How are things going, Evan?”</p>
<p>“Fine.”</p>
<p>“Is your medication still working for you?”</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>“How have you been handling your day-to-day life?”</p>
<p>Evan pauses. “Fine.”</p>
<p>“Is there anything in particular you’d like to talk about today?”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>Evan feels like he’s regressed. It’s the beginning of the school year again, he doesn’t want to be here, he doesn’t want to be open and vulnerable about his feelings. Unfortunately, Dr. Sherman knows him better now.</p>
<p>“Are you sure? It seems to me that something is bothering you.”</p>
<p>“Well, it’s not,” Evan hisses.</p>
<p>“Evan –”</p>
<p>“I’m done.”</p>
<p>Dr. Sherman’s eyebrows jump up. “What?”</p>
<p>Evan stands and begins walking back and forth in front of the couch. He can’t stay still anymore. “I’m done. I’m done with all this – this talking and – and medicine and therapy and techniques – I’m done! Make it go away, why are we wasting our time with all this stuff? Just make it stop!” Dr. Sherman watches calmly as Evan paces. <em>She’s not saying anything. She’s not doing anything</em>. And again, Evan feels an inexplicable rage bubble up through his chest and into his throat, and he finds himself shouting, “Well?”</p>
<p>Dr. Sherman merely blinks and motions for Evan to sit down. He doesn’t. She sighs tiredly.</p>
<p>“Evan. Anxiety isn’t something that just goes away. It’s something you learn to control.”</p>
<p>“Well I <em>can’t </em>control this! Everything is, everything is blowing up and I can’t, I don’t have any control over anything that’s happening and I just, I’m just so angry, so angry <em>all the time</em> and I’m so, I’m so…” Evan pulls in a ragged breath. His cheeks are wet with tears, but he’s not sure when he started crying. “I’m so tired, I’m so tired, I just want… I’m just tired.” The irritation in his chest dies down a little. It’s still there, festering, but suddenly Evan’s limbs are so heavy, his brain is pounding so hard, he just slumps into the couch, unable to conjure the energy to hold himself up anymore. “I just… fuck. Fuck!”</p>
<p>Evan wipes his eyes and glances at Dr. Sherman. She doesn’t seem surprised by his outburst, but there’s a sad sort of kindness in her eyes. “When did this all start?”</p>
<p>“Yesterday.”</p>
<p>“Oh, no, I meant when did this all <em>start?</em> This anger that you’re feeling… anger doesn’t just explode out of nowhere in the way that we commonly think it does. It builds over time, and the expression of anger comes when we’ve reached our breaking point. What happened to make the anger start building?”</p>
<p>Evan rubs his forehead. “I dunno… I’ve never had this kind of thing before. I don’t <em>blow up </em>like this, not ever. I’m usually too scared to do anything but… to do anything but run away.”</p>
<p>“Try and think. Was there a particular incident? Do you blame someone for your anger?”</p>
<p>“I… What does this have to do with getting rid of my anxiety?”</p>
<p>“It’s important, I promise. Think, Evan.”</p>
<p>Evan thinks. When did this start? Who is he angry with? He’s angry with Jared, of course, he’s the first person Evan blew up at. He’s angry at Connor for… he’s not sure exactly why, but he’s angry at Connor. He’s angry at his mom for tricking him into… for tricking him into going to see his dad. His dad, who honestly makes him feel like a piece of shit sometimes. His dad, who Evan was so sad to see go that February day. “I, I guess… my dad? I think, maybe it started when he, when he left, when I was six.”</p>
<p>Dr. Sherman raises her eyebrows. “That’s a long time for this to be building up. Are you angry with him for leaving?”</p>
<p>“No, no, I get it, he had to go, he didn’t, um, love us or whatever. It would’ve been worse if he stayed, so it’s good that he left. I’m not mad at him. I mean, he definitely intimidates me, he’s kind of, um, well, I just don’t know what to expect from him, because I don’t know him at all. He used to, um, when, when I was little? And he and mom would fight, and sometimes, sometimes there was, um, like, banging? On the walls? Because, I think because he just felt like he needed to hit something. I’m just glad he wasn’t hitting mom,” Evan laughs awkwardly and wraps his arms around himself. “I remember being scared, when he was like that? I guess I’m, I’m st-still scared, sometimes. Because he would just blow up, out of nowhere, and I’m, I-I do that too, sometimes, lately, and I’m just, I, I guess I’m scared that I’m really, that I’m more like him than I’d like to be. And then, he has Brook and Landon, and they’re great, really, Landon is just… the best. But I’m just conflicted, I guess, because, like, I really like Landon, but I guess, I just feel like I hate him sometimes, too, y’know, because he’s got Dad, and he gets to grow up with a father figure, and I never got… I just had Mom, and Mom’s fine, but I just feel like I missed out on the whole ‘having a dad’ thing, and so, I guess you could call it jealousy, but I also love him, and I hate that I’m jealous because he really, he’s just great and he deserves to have a dad, and, y’know, maybe not the dad we have because he’s not, ha, he’s not the best, but at least he has someone, so, yeah…” Evan finishes lamely and wipes his nose.</p>
<p>Dr. Sherman clears her throat quietly. “Evan… from what you’re telling me, it really sounds like you’re angry with your dad. And you’re blaming yourself for what he’s done.”</p>
<p>Evan looks up abruptly. “No, I’m not. I mean, yeah, I guess, I was a little mad when he left, because like, who just leaves, y’know? Who just leaves their wife and kid because, because they just don’t want them anymore? And then, y’know, when I was eleven and Mom told me he got remarried, I mean, yeah, I was a little upset, because like, I thought his whole thing was that he <em>didn’t want </em>to be ‘tied down’ or whatever, but I was just, y’know, I just didn’t think about it too much, and then, y’know, he had Landon, and then, and he’s like, so <em>proud </em>of <em>Landon, </em>and I’m just, y’know, like, why couldn’t he have been proud of me, and Mom? Why did he have to go and be happy with someone else when he had people, important people who he left behind? It’s just, y’know, it’s bullshit is what it is, really, but then, of course, I can’t really be mad because really Landon is great, and he doesn’t deserve to have Dad as his dad, and Dad doesn’t deserve Landon because Landon is great, and I just, I, I really don’t know where I’m going with this.”</p>
<p>“It’s not your fault, Evan. There was nothing you could have done differently to make him stay, or to make him change. And it’s not his fault either. Sure, there are things that he could’ve handled differently, but he was doing the best he could at the time. You can’t change the past, you can’t forget it, but you can accept it. You can move on.”</p>
<p>Her words aren’t dissimilar to the ones Connor said back in Colorado. But for some reason, her words don’t hold the same comfort that Connor’s did. “That’s bullshit. Why should I have to accept it? Why should I have to be the bigger person? My whole life, I’ve apologized for everything, I apologize for stuttering, for talking too much, breathing too loudly, for existing! I’m done with being stepped on and thrown around, I’m done with being people’s punching bag!”</p>
<p>Dr. Sherman sighs. “You can hold onto this anger if you want to. But it’ll only make you tired and bitter. It’s not fair, I know. Nothing is ever fair. No one asked to be born into the life they’re living, but they make the best of it, because the alternative is much worse. People choose their happiness, it’s not something that you are given or that you can find. You have to choose it, or make it for yourself. And sometimes that means that you have to accept what you can’t change. I’m sorry to say that resisting it will only bring you down.”</p>
<p>“This is bullshit,” Evan mutters under his breath as he looks off and out the window. “I’m done," he says again. "I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”</p>
<p>“Evan, I really don’t think we should leave it there. We need to dissect this, find the root, and really work at it. You might not be able to find peace if we don’t.”</p>
<p>Evan sighs. “Next week. I’m tired. I can’t think about this anymore.”</p>
<p>Dr. Sherman presses her lips together, resisting the urge to push. “Is there anything else on your mind?”</p>
<p><em>Yes, </em>Evan thinks. But he doesn’t want to talk about Jared and Alana and Mom and Connor. He doesn’t want to think about them. He doesn’t want to face the hurt he’s caused. He’d rather just stew in his own misery right now. “No.”</p>
<p>Again, Dr. Sherman clearly wants to push, but she doesn’t. She can tell she’s not going to get anywhere with Evan today. So she lets him go, reminding him to take his medication and call her if he needs to talk about anything. </p>
<p>Evan leaves without bothering to respond.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>ugh, I am SO. BAD at writing arguments. I literally just want them all to be happy. Hopefully I tugged at least slightly on your heartstrings.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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